Snow-Child: The Dovah Skaal
by OttilieOfflid
Summary: Katara Snow-Child is just a half-Nord, half-Imperial girl living a mundane life in the Skaal village when one day she is drafted into the Empire Legion due to her Imperial lineage. From there, her life changes entirely as she slowly learns her destiny and how she is the savior that Skyrim legends had prophesied.
1. One: That Damn Emblem

**Chapter** **One**

"Skyrim legend tells of a hero known as the Dragonborn, a warrior with the body of a mortal and soul of a dragon, whose destiny it is to destroy the evil dragon Alduin."

There was a chilly nip in the air as the sun rose over the Ghost Sea, and the snow whisked around the mountain tops that loomed overhead to the West. The faint sound of gulls flying down by the shore could be heard if the frigid wind calmed for a moment. The sound of firewood being chopped occasionally echoed through the gaps in the cottages, and the smell of ore from the smelter grazed her nostrils if the gusts caught ahold of it just right. For Katara Snow-Child this was just an average morning in the Skaal village. She stepped outside of her home, well, Elysia's home. Elysia Gorman was an elderly Skaal widow that was kind enough to let Katara reside with her for several years. In exchange Katara did most of the housekeeping and hunting if needed. Housing in the village was in short supply, and there wasn't much land to build on even if she wanted a place to call her own; she would have to relocate away from the village in order to do so, which simply was not an option any time soon.

The thick snow crunched under her heavy fur boots and Katara tightened her fur jacket around her neck and chest as the chilly morning air kissed her khaki cheeks and nose when she opened the door from Elysia's cottage. Most of the village elders were already stirring and getting started on their respective duties. In the Skaal, everyone has a role that they must uphold in order to keep balance and routine in the village. There was Baldor, the blacksmith. Elysia, a healer and a shaman. Deor, the woodcutter. Jure and Calder, both hardy hunstmen. Ingrid and Teola, who were in charge of flaying the fresh kills provided by the hunstmen. Lastly there was Storn and his daughter Freya. Storn was the leader of the Skaal. He was a healer and a shaman but he led with sage advice and logical leadership. Freya was his adult daughter who looked after her father, although she was a warrior by heart. She enjoyed adventuring and the fight for life.

Every member of the Skaal had deep roots to the land and were born right in the very village, as was Katara. However, her roots didn't run as thick and deep as the others - she was actually the first of her family born in the village.

Katara's mother was a Nord, which is what most of the Skaal are, except the Skaal are a group of Nords that have adopted a more reclusive and primitive way of life than their other kinsman who live in Skyrim. Her father was an Imperial, hailing from the providence of Cyrodil. Her parents met in Skyrim when they were young and fell in love quickly. Her mother, Kira, was a bard. She would play at small inns and pubs in the Eastern part of Skyrim. Orpheus, her father, came to Skyrim as a teenager and became an innkeeper. Katara remembers stories that her mother would revel in late at night by the fireplace about the first time her and Orpheus met.

"I was playing my lute at the inn one night when a patron - a very drunk patron - tried grabbing me by the arm. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't uncommon that a drunken milk drinker would try to grab me in hopes of getting lucky that night. However this particular man had a bad aurora about him. You know those people, Katara? His intentions were bad. I could feel it in my bones. So I jerked away from him and made my way to the other side of the common area. Well, wouldn't you know it, the drunken bastard followed me. He grabbed my arm - hard! He spun me around and I could smell the putrid stench of mead overpowering me. Just in that moment as I was face to face with him, a tall dark haired man stepped in between us. That man was your father, Orpheus. 'It's time for you to go home, sir.' As quick as I ever saw, the man's face turned from a sloppy smile to an angry scowl. Before any of us could react, the man had balled up his fist and landed it right on Orpheus' jaw. The drunken man and a few of his friends cackled and strolled out of the inn thinking that they were kings. I bent down to tend to Orpheus, who was out cold on the quarry stone floor. When he finally came to the both us spent the remainder of the night talking and munching on grilled potatoes and leeks. The rest is history, Katara. We fell in love."

Katara's parents loved each other deeper than the meaning of the very word. Shortly after they married they found out they were pregnant with her. Wanting a better life for their daughter than innkeeping and lute-playing, they fled to Solstheim and joined the Skaal to live a peaceful life where Katara could be raised without Jarls and Emperors. She was born on one of the coldest nights the village has ever experienced, in the midst of a ferocious snowstorm. Katara was born with hair as white as snow, grayish blue eyes, and tan skin like her father. The villagers said that her white hair was a mark from the All-Maker, having been born during such a terrible frigid storm. The elders took to calling her Snow-Child from that moment on. In fact, Katara had no idea what her actual last name was.

Sadly, Orpheus became bed ridden with ataxia shortly after Katara was born. The only memory she has of her father are the ones her mother would tenderly tell her. Not but a few years after the death of Orpheus, Kira had passed away in her sleep. Storn was unable to determine if it was due to an illness or disease. From that moment Elysia had taken in Katara and the two have lived together ever since.

"Ah, Katara! Good to see that you're up.", Teola broke Katara's morning trance with her motherly voice. "I plan to boil up some clam meat for tonight's dinner. Would you mind going to the shore to gather some clams for me?", she asked. "Of course, Teola.". Katara cinched her fur clothing around her neck and began to walk down the snowy slope that led out to the shore. She turned abruptly and hollered "Any pearls I find goes to Atela, right?". Atela was Teola's 10 year old daughter, who overheard her name in conversation and brightly lit up. Teola smiled and glanced over at Atela's beaming face. "I suppose she's been well behaved enough to earn a pearl or two.", Teola said with a slight smile and a nod towards her daughter. Atela tried to keep her composure, although it was evident she was giddy with the thought of adding more pearls to her collection.

Down by the shore was one of Katara's most beloved places. It was peaceful, calm, and serene. It's not like the village was bustling with commotion, but it was still nice to get away from it from time to time. Katara liked living in the village, it was her home and it would always be her home, but she couldn't help to wonder what else was out there. She walked to the shore line and picked up a damp clam, using her dagger she pryed it open and extracted its mushy meat from the crevice. No pearl for Atela though. Katara gently placed the clam meat into a shallow bucket that was filled with sea water. She gazed over the Ghost Sea, pushing strands of white hair away from her eyes and behind her ears. Solstheim was an island that lies between Skyrim and Morrowind, the Dunmer providence of Tamriel. Morrowind had claimed ownership of Solstheim, so most of the island's inhabitants were Dunmer - dark elves. However there were a few isolated villages and colonies of Nords sparsely scattered in the northern region - the Skaal being one of them. Katara had never even left the village, had never seen a Dunmer, and had never been to Skyrim or Morrowind. There was something both assuring and depressing about that. It was assuring in the sense that her village was safe, it was home. It was familiar. It was depressing because, well, she was a 20 year old girl who had never experienced life outside the village - and as far as she could tell, there wasn't plans to do so any time soon.

The waves of the Ghost Sea lapped gently at the shoreline that laid beneath Katara's feet. The waves were much more choppy the further out to sea one went. She wondered what it must have been like for her parents when they first journeyed to Solstheim. Katara never thought to ask her mom that question, as she had been so young that the thought of asking it hadn't even crossed her mind. She envied her mother and father because, while they were by no means adventurers, they had traveled and experienced a great deal more than Katara had. She does remember her mother telling her stories about Skyrim - most notably the great plains. The way her mother described it made it sound like fields of grain and flowers intertwined with lush green grass and shrubbery met the sky's horizon. Her mother always seemed happy when she was talking about her home. When Katara was just a little girl she had made a promise to herself that her and her mother would travel to Skyrim so she could see the land of her maternal ancestors. Things change, I suppose.

Bending down to pick up another cold clam, Katara noticed something out of the corner of her eye. In the distance she could see two ships - big ships - approaching the shore the West. She squinted, trying to catch a glimpse of the sails. She nearly lost the air in her throat. Red sails, with some sort of black diamond emblem flying on them. She was ignorant to the physical world around her but Katara had read plenty of books before. She recognized these as a Imperial Legion ships.

What business would Imperial ships from Skyrim have here in Solstheim? It made Katara wonder. In 20 years she had never seen the ships here before, then again she hasn't traveled outside of the village so how much could she really know? Still, it was odd. She decided to gather a few more clams and head back up the slope to the village.

When she reached the village she heard more voices than usual, deep demanding voices. Katara rushed up the hill and was almost taken back by the sight she was met with. Imperial soldiers, about 10 or so, here in the village! All the elders and villagers were gathered around the fire in common area, with the soldiers sparsely mixed in. Katara set the bucket of clam meat down on the flaying table and slowly walked towards the crowd, peering and being keen to the conversations.

"Everyone settle down. We're here for just the 2 young ones then we'll be on our way.", one solider announced to the chattering group of villagers. He was wearing a suit of armor that looked heavier and more defined than the others. Katara believed him to the Commander.

Storn raised his hands to his group of loyal villagers in an effort to hush them.

"Commander, what's the meaning of this...intrusion? We've not broken any laws. We're but a peaceful people who keep to ourselves. We're just common folk."

"I know who you're people are. I also know that you've willingly been disconnected from the rest of the world for quite some time so allow me to catch you up to speed", the Commander spoke, a condescending undertone detected in his voice. "Skyrim is in the midst of a Civil War. The Jarl of Windhelm, Ulfric Stormcloak, has killed the High King Torygg and thrown Skyrim into turmoil. I'm Commander Pavo and we represent the Empire, and we'll fight and die to protect Skyrim from treasonous rouges like Ulfric. However, the Stormcloaks are growing in numbers by the day, they seem to be putting up quite the fight.", Commander Pavo seemed surprised in his own words.

The chatter and whispers began again, but nobody was alarmed at the Commander's words. The Skaal didn't involve themselves into politics and wars, it went against their very way of life. Katara inched a little closer to the gathering, feeling the warmth of the fire brushing her thigh.

"Commander, you know the Skaal do not entertain such wars and politics. Even if we did, the war is being fought in Skyrim - not here.", Storn said sincerely. He seemed to be growing more confused by the second.

Commander Pavo turned to Storn as if to speak directly to him, the villagers once again hushed and waited with baited breath.

"I know, Storn. The reason I'm standing here is because two of your villages are direct descendants of Imperials. Cyrodil law states that -"

"Oh...Oh, I-I see where this is going...", Storn interrupted, his tone suddenly shifting to ominous and worried.

"Cyrodil law states that any man or woman who is of age and has a direct maternal or paternal Imperial blood tie must serve in the war should the Empire ever call upon them. By my records, Storn, two of your villagers fit that criteria."

A shriek erupted from Drita, who was a middle aged woman that lived with her son, Nikolas. Nikolas was about the same age as Katara.

"No! Not my Nikolas! Please!", Drita screamed, pushing the other villagers out of the way and towards Commander Pavo. "He's never even been out of the village, he's never felt the weight of a sword in his hands. If you take him then he'll surely -"

"I'm sorry, ma'am.", Commander Pavo pulled out a scroll and unrolled it. "But our records show that the boy's father was an Imperial by the name of Talias."

Drita hung her head low. "Yes, yes that's correct. He died several years ago. Nikolas never knew him. We were married briefly and -", she trailed off, almost as if admitting defeat.

Katara shifted uncomfortably in her spot and slowly began to back away from the crowd. She knew she was the other name on that list. She knew what this meant, that she was being drafted in the Legion army.

The other village women began to console Drita as Commander Pavo further read aloud from the scroll.

"There's also a Katara Aventus here. We need to see her at once, as she is the other person we're here for.", he collapsed the scroll and peered over the crowd, looking for her.

Aventus? So that's my given last name. There was no time to react to this new information, she had to find a way to get out of this. Her, a soldier? That's not possible. No. She'd run for the mountains and stay holded up there until the soldiers gave up and returned to Skyrim on their fancy ships. Katara shuffled further away, but the quiet gaze from the villagers led Commander Pavo's vision directly to her. Her identity was given away.

"You there, girl! Halt, in the name of the Empire!", Commander Pavo hollered out.

Katara froze with all eyes, both Skaal villagers and Imperial soldiers, focused on her next move.

She turned on the heels of her feet and ran.

"Guards, stop her!"

Without hesitation three of Commander Pavo's men sprung into action, swords drawn, tailing after Katara down the slopes.

"There's no need for your men to have their weapons drawn on an innocent girl!", Jure yelled out. He then drew his weapon out of anger, and two more Imperial soldiers held their swords to his throat if he dared to bluff them. Jure angerily grunted and visible steam radiated from his mouth and nose as he was eye to eye with the soldiers.

"Katara, don't run! This will surely make things worse!", Storn yelled out through cupped hands.

Katara was halfway down the slopes when she landed on an icey patch and slipped, rolling downwards a few feet. She staggered and struggled to regain her footing but the soldiers already had their arms outstretched to grab her. They hoisted her up, despite her kicking and screaming, and carried her back up the slope and into the village.

The villagers looked on in horror, their peaceful way of life was abruptly broken tonight by the forces of war. Weapons were rarely drawn in the village, the only sound of steel clashing was Baldor smithing weaponry to trade.

The men brought Katara face to face with Commander Pavo. He leaned in close to her face, so close that she could smell the burnt wood from the fire on his beard.

"You've got some fire in you, Katara. I only hope that you can channel that fire towards the fight in Skyrim - against your kinsman." Katara almost thought she heard a faint laugh come from him, like a part of him enjoyed this. Enjoyed ripping her people from their homes and forcing them to fight and die in a war that didn't concern them. Katara shuddered in anger and turned her face away in compliance.

Commander Pavo straightened up and turned towards his men and the villagers.

"Now then. We will give you two a couple hours to pack some light clothing or gear and say goodbye to your loved ones.", he turned towards Katara again, "and I'll be keeping a close eye on you while you pack. Well, let's get a move on. The sooner the better. It's quite a lengthy sail back to Skyrim."

The wooden ship rocked back and forth endlessly. Katara had only ever been on a small fishing boat not but a few yards from the shore when she was fishing for salmon and slaughterfish. This ship was much different, it was bigger and felt heavier. There were small windows that gave her a glimpse out into the snowy sea that cradled them. It was dark and gray, quite gloomy. Fitting. She was on the lower deck, hung on the walls around her were the red emblems that she saw flying high not but a few hours ago. That damn emblem. A few lit candles rested on nearby tables, providing dim lighting for the cabin of the ship. It made the cherry red wood interior of the ship look almost black.

Katara looked around the cabin. There were about 8 other people down here with her, all sitting in silence. The only sound was the creaking of the wood and the waves crashing against the side of the ship. Katara sat there in silence, still in her Skaal clothing. Commander Pavo told them to pack light clothing or armor and this was all she brought with her.

Because Katara Snow-Child did not intend to play this game. She did not plan to serve in this war. And she was getting out of this situation one way or another.

She peered around the cabin, scanning for that one familiar face until her eyes landed on him.

"Nikolas...psst, Nikolas...", she whispered. Nikolas was slouched over on a bench sound asleep. She peered around then got up and sat next to him.

"Nikolas, wake up.", she nudged him until he came to. He wearily opened his eyes and looked around, turning to her he said "Katara? Why haven't you slept at all? Commander Pavo said that we need to sleep all that we can on board because we'll be assigned to our ranks and begin training once we dock in Skyrim."

"I'm not being assigned to anything!", she answered in a sharp but quiet tone, making sure eavesdropping passengers were unable to hear their conversation.

"As soon as the ship docks, wherever it docks, I'm hoping off and making a run for it. I have to get back to Solstheim even if that means riding in on the back of a horker. Are you with me?"

Nikolas' eyes widened and his facial expression was confused at first but quickly turned into a joking smile.

"You're jesting with me, aren't you?"

Katara was confused at his question.

"Not in the slightest. We have to get back to the village and be with -"

"Katara,", he interrupted her mid sentence, "I'm not going back to the village."

She was stunned at his response, moreso because his tone was as serious as the snow was white.

"What do you mean?", she asked, genuinely confused and slightly irritated.

"Katara, this is the break I've begged the All-Maker for since I was a young boy."

She sat in silence, staring over at him. He continued.

"Haven't you ever wondered what life is like outside of the village? What other races and cultures are like up close instead of just reading about them in books? There's got to be more to life than just chopping up firewood and snowstorms. This is my chance, our chance. We have the opportunity to see Tamriel, to meet new faces, to fight in great battles and be a part of epic tales. "

Katara slowly turned her head away and looked down for a moment. She wanted to scream at him but instead decided on a more understanding and logic approach.

"Nikolas, these people don't care about us. They just want us to fight their mindless war because we happen to share the blood of an Imperial. We're political pawns. What about the villagers? What about...what about your mother, Nik?"

Nikolas looked down for a moment and thinned his lips.

"Seeing my mother teary and upset when my name was called was one of the hardest things I've ever witnessed, I can't deny that. But...I'm not living my mother's life. I have to make my own destiny. I have dreams and ambitions and needs. Perhaps someday I can return to the village donned in shiny armor with a medal for hung around my neck for heroic efforts... "

Nikolas' eyes drifted upwards as if he was picturing it all in his mind and life had panned out exactly as he just described. Katara knew he was serious. She only wished that he wasn't.

"So...that's it then? You're going to be a solider for the Empire?", she asked with sincerity in her voice.

Nikolas nodded and gave her a slight smile.

"If I don't try, then I'll always regret it."

Katara returned the faint smile and looked back up at Nikolas, who was now staring wide eyed out the cabin window.

"Katara, look!"

From the tiny window she could see land growing nearer. There were snowy mountains lining the horizon, it actually looked just like the northern region of Solstheim. The sillouette of a dock was beginning to emerge through the thick snow flurries.

In that moment the cabin door creaked open and an Imperial soldier walked down the stairs. Katara and Nikolas, along with the other passengers in board with them, shuffled back to their seats and awaited what he was about to say.

"Listen up, lads. We're about to dock in Skyrim. Gather your belongings and be ready to file out of the ship on our command. We have a carriage waiting for us at the docks that can take us to Solitude. We have to move swiftly and carefully, this is Stormcloak territory." He watched as everyone gathered their knapsacks and began to stand up and stretch.

Several minutes later the ship had docked and Commander Pavo was giving his men on the main deck a quick run through of the routes that the carriage was to take once we were all off the ship.

In a single file line all the passengers stepped from the lower cabin to the main deck. The air was frigid, Katara was glad that all she had was the heavy Skaal clothing. Although she had to admit that after spending hours in that stuffy ship, the crisp cool air felt good on her cheeks once again.

There was no time to take everything in. Her moment to escape was here and she had to seize the opportunity before it was lost forever. Up ahead Commander Pavo stopped the passengers from unloading so he could wave his carriages over to prepare for loading. Nikolas, who was standing behind Katara, grabbed her hand and leaned over.

"Wherever you end up, whoever you become, please be careful. If you make it back to the village then send my mother my love. Tell her I'll see her again someday. Take care of yourself, Katara."

Katara smiled at him, then Commander Pavo began moving the passengers along again. She looked around feverishly. There was a wooded area just a few yards away from the docks. If she could make it there without being noticed by one of the soldiers then she could figure out her next plan of action in the hidden shrubbery of the woods- and map out a plan for getting back home.

"Commander, we've received word that a Stormcloak caravan is nearby - Ulfric is possibly traveling with them. We outnumber them, sir.", Katara overheard one of the soldiers tell Commander Pavo. The Commander asked a couple more questions and had his back turned, which allowed for Katara to veer from the line of passengers and make a beeline for the woods. She ran faster in that moment than she ever had before. She ran like her life depended on it, which in this case, it did.

Katara made it to the shrubbery, out of breath and lungs feeling like squeezed apples, but free from the grip of the Empire. She took only a moment to catch her breath before strategically making her way deeper into the woods. Her fur boots were crunching snow and leaves as she carefully placed one foot in front of the other, bending back small limbs and twigs that stood in her way. She paused for a moment when she overheard the sound of wheels rolling on quarry stone, coupled with the soft trotting of a horse. She must be near the road. She quietly inched closer towards the road.

A caravan full of men dressed in blue curicass's was rolling past. There was indistinct chatter on board and the occasional snort from the horse, getting cold more than likely. A few of the men had shields that donned a bear on them.

She heard a soft crack behind her, like footsteps on leaves. Katara spun around quickly and in the blink of an eye she was hit over the head with a wooden Imperial shield.

She was knocked out cold.


	2. Two: The Chopping Block

**Chapter** **Two**

Katara wearily lifted her head, there was a throbbing pain emitting from her skull. She was being rocked back and forth. For a brief moment she thought she was back on the Imperial ship with the rough waters of the Ghost Sea knocking them around. Only these rocking motions were sharper and more jolting, like they were on a road. She slowly opened her eyes and found herself staring straight into the sky. It was cloudy and chilly with slight snow flurries falling overhead. She sat up with a little more urgency and quickly realized that her hands were bound tightly with rope.

"Hey, you're finally awake.", a middle aged Nord man calmly said to her.

Katara glanced at him and then took a good look at her surroundings. She was in a carriage making a slight descend down a hill. There were green trees everywhere and mountains in the distance. There was scarce snow on the ground. This was the warmest she'd felt in a long while. Behind their carriage was an Imperial soldier riding on a horse. In front of them was another carriage carrying men and some women, they were wearing those blue curicass' that she had saw earlier - before an Imperial soldier bashed her over the head.

She looked down and noticed she was wearing ragged robes. Where had my Skaal armor gone? Had they stripped me while I was unconscious? How long have a been unconscious? Sitting next to her was a man donned in the same blue as the older soldiers, except his was a mix of fur and robe like material. Perhaps another Commander? His mouth was gagged, which struck Katara as unusual because none of the other men had rope around their mouths. Across from the man sat a younger gentlemen with dark hair and dark wide eyes. He was wearing ragged robes as well. Katara looked at the Nord man who was sitting opposite her left. He was wearing the blue curicass.

"What's - what's going on?", she asked, her voice cracking from being slightly hoarse.

"They're taking us to Helgen. It would appear that we're headed for the chopping block.", the Nord man replied. He had shoulder length dirty blonde hair and blue eyes that were bloodshot. There was dirt and minor scrapes all over his arms and chest.

"Damn Stormcloaks! Skyrim was fine until you came along. The Empire was nice and lazy. I could've gotten away with stealing that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell by now.", the dark haired man in the ragged robes sharply said. He turned towards Katara,"You and I - we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloak rebels they want."

It donned on Katara that the men wearing the blue curicass' were Stormcloak soldiers. If that made them soldiers, then the gagged man in the fancier getup next her must've been...

"Hey! Quiet back there!", an Imperial soldier driving the carriage yelled back at them. Up ahead a brick structure started to grow nearer. What resembled a fort or a town started to take shape in the distance.

"So...what are they going to do with us in Helgen?", Katara asked sincerely, a worried undertone carrying in her voice.

The Nord man looked at her for a good moment before answering her as honestly as he knew how.

"They're going to do what they've always done to rebels and criminals charged with treason...execute us.", he replied bleakly.

They were crossing into Helgen now, more Imperial soldiers and townsfolk were gathered outside. The hushed chattering of the townsfolk faintly reminded her of where she was just a day or two ago. Up ahead she saw a clearing in the middle of the town. There was only a stump and a bucket, with several Imperial soldiers standing around it watching the carriages file in. One man stood out among the other soldiers. He was wearing a black hood with small slits cut so only his eyes showed. Over his shoulder was a long, sharp war axe. He was the executioner.

The carriage lurched to an abrupt stop a few dozen yards away from the chopping block.

"Why are we stopped?!", the dark haired man asked in a worried, frantic tone.

"Why do you think? End of the line.", the Nord answered quietly.

"Alright, step down please. Order, please. When you're name is called come forward and make your way towards General Tullius.", a younger Imperial soldier said, opening a book and wetting the quill with the tip of his tounge. "Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm..."

The gagged man in Stormcloak robes stepped forward. By the All-Maker, he really was Ulfric Stormcloak. His hair was a dark blonde that fell to the length of his ears. His brow was sharp and defined. He stood tall, about 6'3 Katara guessed. Under his fancy robes you could tell that he had a muscular build. He showed almost no emotion as he stepped closer to General Tullius.

"Ulfric Stormcloak, you're charged with treason in the highest form. You killed High King Torygg and plunged Skyrim into this senseless war. How many men have died because of your selfish thirst for power? How many families have lost their homes because you've ran your group of bandit soldiers through their towns? Skyrim will never be the same now because of your doing.", General Tullius spoke directly to Ulfric, anger seething from him. He was a short gray haired Imperial man donned in the shinest and finest Imperial armor Katara has seen yet.

Ulfric only grunted at his words.

"I sentence you to death. It's only a shame that I couldn't do it myself. I hope you rot in...wherever it is you people believe you go when you die."

General Tullius turned towards the solider who was reading names aloud from the book. "Hadvar! Continue on reading. I'd like to save Ulfric's slaying until last. He needs to watch his men die."

"Very well, General.", Hadvar returned to his book. "Ralof of Riverwood..."

The Nord man stepped forward and stood behind Ulfric.

"Yamous of Rorikstead..."

The dark haired man slowly stepped forward and quickly glanced around, tears streaming down his face.

"No! I didn't do anything wrong! You can't take me!", Yamous yelled as he began to sprint away, his hands still bound.

"Archers!", a female Imperial Legionnare called at her men.

Without missing a beat, an Imperial archer standing on a stone balcony readied his bow and arrow and sent it flying into Yamous' lower back. Yamous hollered out then fell to the street, his body lying there lifeless.

Katara gasped and held her bound hands over her mouth. She'd never seen someone be killed before. Yamous was someone's son, possibly someone's husband. He was a living, breathing human. He wasn't meant to be in the middle of this mess. If anything he should've just sat in a jail cell for a few days for his crimes of stealing a horse. The Imperials killed him in the streets like he was a dog.

"Katara Aventus of the Skaal..."

"It's Katara Snow-Child!", she hollered out.

"Katara...Snow-Child...you're being charged with an attempt to dodge the Imperial draft."

Hot tears began streaming down her tan cheeks. She was trying to control her sobbing. How did I end up in this position? Two days ago my life was fine, quiet and normal. Katara slowly stepped forward to join the others in the line awaiting their deaths.

"Alright, let's take the Skaal woman first.", the female Legionnare said to the executioner.

Katara's heart sank into her stomach. It became harder to control her crying but she tried to the best of her ability. She walked up to the block, the muddy ground cold on her bare feet. She could feel all eyes on her - Ulfric, Ralof, General Tullius, Hadvar, the female Legionnare, the townsfolk, and the executioner.

"On your knees, girl.", the executioner said.

Katara bent down on her knees, staring down at the wooden block, her tears staining the wood. The executioner sternly pushed her down over the block. Her right cheek pressed into the wood, which stunk of rotting blood and pricked her face with jagged splinters.

The executioner stepped back slightly to gain his positioning and placed two hands on his axe.

All-Maker, forgive me. I'm sorry, mother and father. I'm sorry Skaal. What have I done? Please, forgive me for my selfishness... "

Her tears began flowing again. She decided to close her eyes in hopes that she'd be in Sovngarde when she opened them. Perhaps reunited with her mother and father. The thought gave her a small sliver of reassurance and comfort. She held her breath and awaited the axe.

The silence in Helgen was broken by a spine chilling...roar? Katara's eyes flew open, she was face to face with the executioner's blood stained axe. She exhaled and glanced up. Every soldier, townsfolk, prisoner, and even the executioner had their heads turned to the sky. A faint rumbling echoed in the mountains overhead.

"What in Oblivion was that?!", a soldier shrieked, putting his hand over his eyeline to get a better view at the sky. In the distance but becoming louder was the sound of...flapping. Wings flapping. Another roar seared through the sky.

On the guard tower to the left of Katara, a massive black dragon landed on the stoop. The shear size of its landing made the ground quake beneath it. Its scales were black as night and it had great big horns protruding from its head. His eyes were as red as blood, and they almost seemed to be glowing. His claws alone we the size of a full grown man, they hung over the edges of the tower.

The dragon peered over everyone, scanning the crowd for a brief moment. Everyone was silent, stunned in fear at the sight that was before their eyes. Katara's mouth hung agape.

The dragon lifted his massive head to the sky and pierced the atmosphere with a roar, only it wasn't just a roar. Not like the ones you read about in children's fables. This roar was almost like a sudden clap of sharp thunder, and it even had a green aurora to it. Everyone ducked and covered their ears and the ground began to shake. Just seconds later the sky opened up and firey rocks began plummeting to the ground.

All hell broke loose. The townsfolk, the soldiers, and the prisoners all went running in a frantic frenzy - desperately searching for shelter.

Katara lifted herself off the chopping block and made a run for the nearest enclosed structure. A firey rock came soaring down and landed several feet next to her, sending her back down to the ground as the earth shook.

"Kinsman! We've got to move! Get on your feet!", she looked up and outstretched was the hand of Ralof. He reached down and hoisted her up.

"We have to get to the Keep, follow me and stay close to the walls!", he said drawing his sword and making a run for the stone wall of Helgen. All around them people were being either being burned by the dragons firey breath, crushed by the falling rocks, or running into their homes - which unfortunately did not provide suitable shelter from this beast.

Ralof and Katara skirted the walls of the town until they managed to make it into Helgen Keep. The structure still shook but it looked like it'd hold out if they just kept moving. Outside all she could hear was the screams of people and the firey rocks making impact with the ground and buildings. It was utter chaos.

Ralof wiped the sweat from his brow and took a moment to catch his breath. He ran his hands through his dirty blonde hair and paced nervously around the room.

"Was that really...was it, was it a dragon?", he asked out loud in disbelief and shock.

"It certainly looked like a dragon...", Katara replied, her gaze following Ralof's pacing.

Ralof looked around the Keep, scratching his skin. "We need to get you some decent clothing and out of those ragged robes. Here, let me cut those binds."

Katara held out her hands and let Ralof untie the ropes. She balled up her fists and moved them around in circular motions to regain the feeling in them.

The two of them moved further into the Keep and found a soldier lying dead on the floor, his sword lying a few feet from his body.

"Go on and take his armor while I try to find a way out of here.", Ralof instructed.

Katara stood there for a moment, still clenching her hands, staring at the lifeless body. Ralof began inspecting the iron gate that led to the downstairs of the Keep, looking for a way to open it. He paused when he noticed Katara hadn't moved.

"Well, what are you waiting for? We HAVE to get out of here - quickly."

She glanced at him and inched closer to the body.

"Wait a minute, don't tell me you've never seen a dead body before...", his voice sounded slightly irritated.

Katara sighed, "Yamous was the first dead body I've ever seen. He was the first person I've ever seen be...killed."

Ralof's face unhardened, his tone changed to one of a bit more understanding. "I didn't know. I guess the war has taken its toll on me more than I thought. Killing a man and seeing dead bodies has become a bit of the norm lately. I forget that the layperson isn't always as rigid. I'm sorry. I'll loot his body for you this once, but if we're going to get out of here alive then you're going to have to get over it. There's bound to be some Imperial soldiers down in the Keep who are willing to kill you if it means saving their asses."

Katara nodded gratefully and Ralof bent down to strip the man of his armor.

"Looks like some leather boots and gauntlets, a branded iron armor piece, and ah - oh, a decent steel sword over here. Not bad.", Ralof handed her the armor and turned around, both so she could change and so he could go back to shaking the gate in an attempt to get it open.

Katara placed the branded iron armor over her torso. It was heavy, but it fit well. Next she slipped on the gauntlets and boots. She picked up the steel sword and immediately dropped it to the ground, making a loud "ting" as it hit the stone floor.

"Let me guess...no experience with weapons either, eh?"

"In the Skaal we have no need for swords and weapons. We have very few huntsmen in the village, but even they don't go slicing people's heads off."

Ralof slightly sighed but remained understanding. "Okay, how about taking a few swings over there at that tall dresser." He pointed to the wall behind Katara where a wooden dresser stood.

She picked up the sword again, grasping it firmly with both hands. She took a deep breath and swung at the dresser. She left a deep gash right through its door. Katara felt the weight of the steel in her hands, felt the reverberations from the impact course through her fingertips. She had to admit, she liked the feeling. She liked it more than she thought she would. She took a few more swings at it, picturing Commander Pavo's face. Gash after gash appeared in the dresser as it rapidly turned into nothing but a pile of wood haphazardly laying against the wall. Katara stepped back, lowering her sword and catching her breath.

"Feels good, doesn't it?", Ralof spoke.

Katara gave him a slow smile.

The two of them froze in silence when they heard footsteps coming from up the steps on the other side of the gate.

"I knew I heard something up here...", they overheard a man say as he was walking up the steps.

Katara and Ralof both crouched as close to the wall as they could get, both of them on each side of gate but just out of view.

"This might be your chance to really swing some steel. Keep quiet and stay low. When they open the gate we'll ambush them.", Ralof whispered to her as he raised his sword in preparation.

Katara took a deep breath. She knew she was about to kill someone. She knew it had to be done. She had to get back to her people on Solstheim. By whatever means necessary. These people wouldn't hesitate for a second to take her life, why should she hesitate to take theirs? In the past couple of days her world had been turned upside down in a series of events that was beyond her control.

It was time for Katara to regain that control.

Sure enough, two Imperial soldiers reached the top of the stairwell and pulled a lever to raise the iron gate. They stepped into the room and in a flash Ralof pounced on the soldier closest to him. Katara sprung up and landed a swift swing on the solider that was closest to her before he could even register she was there. He was flung to the ground and groaned out in pain. Without thinking twice, she got on top of him and sent a slicing swing directly down his chest. Blood started to pour from his wounds as he took his last breath. Katara got up and and stepped away from his body. She was shaking with adrenaline. But she couldn't ignore how killing him just made her feel so...alive. It wasn't so much killing a person as it was killing an Imperial soldier - the very people that stripped her of her cozy home, drug her across the Ghost Sea to Skyrim, bashed her over the head unconscious, and came within seconds of sending her to her death. Winning, albeit a small and minor moment, felt good for a change.

"That wasn't bad.", Ralof broke her trance. Katara turned and saw that Ralof had killed his solider as well, who was lying on the floor. "Be sure to check him for any septims he may have, these fancy Imperials always carry a bit of coin on them."

She patted down his breastplate and torso, searching every pocket and crevice on his armor. After just killing a man, looting him didn't seem so daunting anymore. Just as Ralof anticipated, the soldier had 4 septims on him. Katara showed Ralof, smiled, and stuffed them into her pocket. He smiled back.

"Come on, let's head further down into the Keep. I'll bet anything that there's a way out somewhere." he said, walking down the steps. The rumbling outside continued. "We better hurry. This place could come crumbling down at any time."

Ralof was right. Within a matter of minutes they emerged through the Keep via a tunneled out cave. The sun was blinding, but it felt good on Katara's skin. It wasn't often that she saw the sun without it being accompanied by snow and frigid wind. The air felt clear. Around her was lush green shrubbery and woods. In the distance were mountains, all around. Some were capped with white snow, others had tips that were just as green as the plants around her. She took a deep breath. She could smell the flowers around her - red, purple, and blue mountain flowers. It had just became evening as the sun was sitting slightly above the mountains, giving the landscape around her a glowing yellow shine. Each blade of grass seemed to shimmer when the breeze carried the sunlight across it. For the first time since her arrival, Katara was noticing the beauty of Skyrim. For the first time...it felt like she could.

But there was little time for lollygagging in fields of flowers. She was on a mission. She had to return to the Skaal - to her home.

"Well, that was something wasn't it? I can't believe we just escaped an actual dragon. I never would've believed if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. Listen, there's a town not far from here - Riverwood. My sister lives there. If we're ahead of the news, and I think we are judging by how many people died back there, then we can spread word of what happened back there in Helgen. All the Jarls in every hold will need to know about this. They need to prepare to protect themselves and their citizens. If there's one dragon, it wouldn't surprise me if there's more. You could tag along with me to Riverwood if you'd like. A belly full of food and a bed for the night wouldn't hurt. I'm sure my sister wouldn't mind it at all."

Katara took her eyes of the landscape around her and nodded. "Thank you, Ralof. I'd like that a lot."

The two set off down the road, Katara was still in awe at the colors around her. The sun began to set.

A couple miles down the road they arrived in Riverwood - a smaller, quaint town that sat on the edge of a rushing river. Katara noticed a blacksmith, a general goods store, an inn, a logging mill, a dock leading over the river, and several small homes that she assumed belonged to the townsfolk.

They were walking when Ralof stopped just shy of the logging mill. He looked up at the wooden tower at a man who was shoving a log into the cutter.

"Hod! Hod, come down from there!", he yelled through cupped hands.

The burly man leaned over the railing and squinted in an effort to see who was addressing him.

"What do you want, you - Ralof? Ralof, is that really you?! Oh my, I'm coming down. Just - just give me a moment!", the man yelled back as he shuffled carefully away from the saw and hurried down the steps.

Ralof met him at the end of the steps and the two men embraced each other, lightly laughing and patting each other on the back.

"We didn't know when we'd see you next, Ralof. Gerdur! Gerdur, come see who's here!", Hod hollered around the corner of the mill house.

"It's been too long, old friend. Too long.", Ralof said, placing his hand firmly on Hod's shoulder. "This is my friend, Katara. Katara, this is my brother-in-law, Hod. Katara and I were the only ones to escape Helgen just moments ago."

Hod's face hardened from rejoiceful to concerned in a matter of seconds. "Escape? What do you mean escape?", he asked.

Just in that moment a blonde haired woman peered around the corner of the mill house and nearly dropped her basket when she saw Ralof.

"Ralof!", she hollered, running towards him and hugging him tightly. "Dear brother, we haven't seen you in so long."

"Gerdur, it's good to see you again.", Ralof said as he returned the hug to his sister.

"Where have you been? I thought you were out fighting in the war? What brings you home? You're thin, are you eating enough?"

"Gerdur, Gerdur. I know you have questions. First, is there somewhere we can go to speak privately?"

Hod and Gerdur exchanged a concerned look.

Hod spoke up. "Let's head inside the house and we can talk there. You two look like you've really had a rough time."

Ralof almost laughed, "You're telling me..."

Ralof explained everything to his family. He told them about being taken by the Imperials and sent to the chopping block. He told them about the dragon and the rain of firey rocks that destroyed Helgen. He told them about escaping the town with Katara, who also spoke up when it was appropriate for her to chime in. Hod and Gerdur were silent the entire time Ralof was telling his story. They occasionally shared a look of disbelief, but continued to listen with baited breath and wide eyes.

Gerdur was the first to speak. "I can't believe the two of you escaped with your lives. So Hilde wasn't just seeing things..."

"Hilde?", Ralof asked puzzled.

"She was going on to Sven about seeing a dragon, black as night, fly from the South and over the Barrow. We dismissed her because we thought she was crazy in her old age.", Gerdur answered, still sitting down trying to wrap her mind around what Ralof had just told them.

"We have to tell Jarl Balgruf at once.", Hod said, searching the end tables and dressers for a roll of paper and a quill. "I'll write him a letter and have a trusted courier rush it to him in Whiterun first thing in the morning."

"You two have certainly been through the ringer. There's some beef stew cooking over there by the fire and a few bottles of mead on the counter. Hod dear, why don't you take Ralof and start working on that letter at once? I'm going grab a wet rag for Katara to wash up. ", Gerdur said.

"Aye. Come, Ralof. I'd be interested in hearing some of your war stories. Perhaps you can tell me what Ulfric Stormcloak is like up close and in battle.". Hod and Ralof walked to the other side of the house. Gerdur dipped a rag in a bucket of water, wrung it out, and handed it to Katara.

"Here, doll. Cleanse those scars and wash the dirt off of you."

Katara smiled up at her and began wiping the exposed limbs of her body down with the rag. Gerdur set a bowl of stew and a bottle of mead in front of her, then she sat down at the table across from her.

"So tell me, Katara...", Gerdur asked, crossing her arms on the table and leaning forward in her seat. "Will you join up with the Stormcloaks now and fight alongside Ralof in this war?"

Katara lifted her spoon to take a bite of the stew. It was the first meal she's had in a couple days. It was absolutely heavenly. It warmed her throat. She set the spoon back down again.

"Well, not exactly. Actually I'm trying to get back to Solstheim."

Gerdur looked genuinely puzzled. "Solstheim? The Dunmer island? Why there?"

"I'm from the Skaal village in the northern part of Skyrim, I -", she was interrupted by Gerdur.

"You're from the Skaal? But you're a Nord, right?"

"Well, my mother is - was - a Nord. My father was an Imperial. That's actually why I'm here in Skyrim. Legion troops came to my village a couple days ago and took me and another villager because some law states that because we're direct descendants of an Imperial, we have to fight in any war if the Empire calls upon us. When we docked in Skyrim, I made a run for it. I made it through the woods to the other side of the road and that's when I must've stumbled upon Ralof and Ulfric's caravan. Next thing I know I'm being clocked over the head by an Imperial soldier who caught up to me, then I wake up in a carriage with my hands tied. That's where I met Ralof and how we ended up here."

Gerdur shook her head in disgust. "Damn faithless Imperials. Thinking it's okay to take innocent people from their homes. Ha, they must know they're losing this war if they're going as far as the Skaal to recruite new people."

Katara continued to sip her soup and nod in agreement, she would've talked more but she was starving. Gerdur noticed she was hungry so she didn't press her for anymore information.

"Well, the journey back to Solstheim is a long one indeed. You need all the rest you can get tonight so you can set off in the morning. I think I have a map of Skyrim laying around here somewhere, you're more than welcome to take it with you. In fact you can take anything from around the house that's within your means - food, some extra clothing, a lantern, anything you may need for your travels."

Katara gave her a big smile and nodded gratefully. She wiped her mouth with the rag as Gerdur got up and turned away.

"When you're ready to lie down there's a bed over there. Just blow the candle out." Gerdur said as she walked to her room for the night.

Katara laid her spoon in the empty bowl and took a sip of the mead. She made a disgusted face at the taste of it. She'd never had mead before. It was alcohol, something she wasn't used to. She forced herself to take another sip to wet her throat and wash the stew down then set the bottle back down for the night.


	3. Three: Blade for Hire

**Chapter Three**

Dawn came sooner than she had wished, but it was time for her to hit the road and begin the journey.

Katara stepped outside of the mill house and took a deep breath of the air around her. The sound of chickens in their coop filled the morning air. Overhead a few hawks flew and occasionally crowed. The air was warmer - well, warm to her. Ralof and Gerdur emerged from the house a few moments later.

"So, are you all set?", Ralof asked her, inspecting her knapsack and armor.

"About as ready as I'll ever be.", Katara said, mustering a smile. "I can't thank you enough for everything, Ralof. Without you I wouldn't be standing here right now. Gerdur, your kindness and hospitality will forever be remembered. You've really made me feel like family here."

Gerdur smiled and gave Katara a big hug. She whispered in her ear, "Please be safe, dear. I hope you make it safely back to your village."

Ralof pulled Katara aside for a moment to the other side of the porch.

"Listen, there's a lot of bad people out there, Katara. People who wouldn't mind seeing your head on a spike. The Imperial army may have been scattered from what happened in Helgen but don't think for a second that they won't put your hands back in binds if they run across you in Skyrim. Try to lay low if there's Imperials around, okay?"

Katara nodded as she listened intently.

Ralof continued, "Something else for the road," he dug around in his coin purse and pulled out a few dozens septims and placed them in Katara's hand. "You'll need some coin to get around. And if you run out...", he lowered his voice, "just steal a bit here and there on your travels. Just don't get caught. There's a carriage on the other side of the town that will take you to any hold for 10 septims."

Katara smiled up at him and leaned in to give him a hug, he returned it.

She walked down the stairs off the porch and headed for the East side of the town to find the carriage.

"One more thing,", Ralof yelled after her. She turned to listen. "If you feel like seeking revenge someday on the Imperial bastards that did this to you, head to Windhelm and talk to Jarl Ulfric. He's always looking for new recruits and I'm sure he'd take you in."

She smiled and waved. "Thank you, Ralof. I'll be seeing you again someday."

She spotted the carriage and hurried over there. A middle aged man sat atop of the carriage with the reigns of the horse in his palms.

"Good morning, kinsman. Need to hire my carriage?", he asked cheerfully.

Katara glanced up at him then pulled out the map that Gerdur gave her. She opened it hastily and began searching for some sort of shipping dock. Her eyes frantically darting across the map.

The carriage driver peered over her shoulder. "Need help finding something?"

She glanced back up at him apologetically. "It would appear that I do need some help. I'm trying to get to Solstheim. Are there any docks that I could leave from?"

"Ah, Solstheim.", the carriage driver bent down and pointed to a spot on the map. "Here. There's an East Empire shipping outpost just outside of Windhelm. One of those ships will take you to Solstheim. Yeah, they handle all the trading between that region of Skyrim and Solstheim. Windhelm is about a 2 day ride to the Northeast of here. 10 septims and I will gladly take you there. Wouldn't mind seeing a bit of snow myself."

Katara gave him a gratuitous smile and stuffed the map back into her knapsack. She plucked 10 septims out of her coin purse and handed it to the carriage driver.

"Great! Climb aboard and we'll be off.", he said, shifting in his seat and adjusting the reins of the horse.

Katara climbed in the back as instructed. The carriage driver made a small click with his mouth and shook the reigns. The horse began to move and the carriage lurched forward. They headed down the quarry stone road and Riverwood slowly grew smaller in the distance behind them. In her mind, Katara waved goodbye to the town and it's people.

Several minutes later and a few miles down the road, the carriage stopped to let some goats cross the road. Katara was busy studying the map, just so she could keep track of where they were without making herself look like a fool for constantly asking the carriage driver their current whereabouts.

While they were stopped she popped her head up and looked around. About another mile away in the distance there was a three tier city that lie in the middle of amber plains. On the lower two tiers there were nice housing and what appeared to be shops, just outside the city there were some stables and farms. On the very top tier sat a huge castle that was made out of wood and stone. It stood tall on the flat land. Around the entire city was a big stone wall. Katara looked back down at her map and tried to gage where they were. She was able to identify the city ahead of them as Whiterun.

The carriage lurched forward and began rolling down the road again once the goats had passed. Katara peered out over the open plains and gazed at the beauty of Whiterun. It was the biggest settlement she's ever seen before.

"What can you tell me about Whiterun?" she asked the driver.

He glanced over at the city. "Whiterun, eh? It's the central city of Skyrim. It sits almost directly in the middle, as you could probably tell from your map there. Because of they're location they get a lot travelers and trading caravans from the road. Balgruf the Greater is the Jarl there. He's a fine Jarl - runs the hold with a level head and truly has the well being of his people as his top priority. As for the citizens, there's a few wealthy and well known families living in Whiterun. You have house Gray-Mane and house Battle-Born, two families that have been at each other's throats dating dozens of generations back. This war hasn't made their feuding any better. But they both reside in the same town because it's their ancestors that pretty much help build Whiterun. Their roots are deep in that city."

Whiterun became more distant by this point. Katara stared at it for another moment before it disappeared over the plains and out of sight. She sighed and put her map away. She pushed her knapsack to the end of the carriage bench and laid her head down on it. She looked up at the sunny morning sky and watched the clouds pass. She closed her eyes and let the soft rocking of the carriage drift her off to sleep.

As the driver had anticipated, they had arrived outside of Windhelm a couple days after leaving Riverwood. The air had become noticeably colder, it was even frigid. The sun didn't seem to shine here. It was constant snow flurries and plush mounds of snow covered the ground completely.

"Windhelm, up ahead.", the carriage driver yelled back to her.

Katara began to gather her belongings. She opened up her knapsack and took a quick inventory of what was inside - a couple lockpicks, a lantern, a torch wrapped with dampened oil cloths, her map of Skyrim, 2 apples and 1 leek, a belted tunic that Gerdur had given her, and a dagger that Ralof had pushed into hand the morning she left Riverwood. She remembered his words, "A steel sword is nice, but a dagger can prove useful in gutting animals for their meats or prying a door open.".

The carriage stopped at the horse stables just outside of Windhelm. Katara hopped off with her luggage and walked around to where the driver sat.

"Thank you, sir. I really appreciate this.", she said looking up at him, her thumbs tucked under the knapsack straps at her side.

"It was no trouble at all, little lady. The East Empire outpost is just down that hill. You can see the sails of the ships from here.", he pointed to the east side of Windhelm's wall and Katara's gaze followed his finger. "I'll be here waiting on any travelers that care to hire me. It's what I do.", he smiled.

Katara set off down the road towards the docks. She was in awe at the city of Windhelm. It was entirely made out of stone, and just like in Whiterun there was a huge castle that was erected in the back of the city. That must've been where Jarl Ulfric lived. She thought Whiterun was the biggest city she'd ever seen, but Windhelm topped that. There was just no telling how many more cities like this dotted the entirety of Skyrim. There was a river that led out to the Ghost Sea, Windhelm sat directly on the mouth of that river, on banks and slopes of snow and ice.

She spotted a stone bridge that led across the river to the docks. She carefully made her way across it, being mindful of the icey patches on the stone.

Once Katara reached the docks she was met with the sound of hammering. It reminded her of Baldor when he'd forge weaponry. The sound was almost comforting. She looked up and froze in her tracks at what she saw. Hammering away on a steel ingot at the workbench was an Argonian man. He was as tall as a grown man and had greenish yellow scales covering his entire body. He had a long, stout face and small fin-like scales from his head trailing down to his...tail? He actually had a tail. Katara was stunned. She'd read books about the Argonian race but never imagined she'd see one in person.

Argonians were a race of lizard people. They were essentially just lizards that walked on two feet, spoke English, ate, slept, and drank like humans. They were native to the Black Marsh providence. They were immune to all diseases, making their lifespans longer than that of a human. Their diets consisted of raw meats and vegetables and their digestive tracts allowed for them to be impervious to food poisoning. They reproduced the same as humans except they laid eggs and their young were called "hatchlings". They were by far the most intriguing of the nine races.

"What are you staring at, milk drinker?", the Argonian asked. Katara was spaced out and didn't even realize that she had been standing there for several moments staring at him.

"I'm, I'm sor -"

"You Nords always like to mock us, don't you?", he pushed past her carrying several steel ingots. "Can't just leave us alone in peace? Haven't you people caused enough trouble to us?"

"I - I'm sorry", she muttered, but the Argonian was already making his way to the other side of the dock.

Katara felt bad but she knew at the same time that she didn't have any reason to feel bad. She didn't like it when others were upset with her but she had a feeling this Argonian's anger towards her wasn't justified. She tried to shrug it off and turned to look towards the ships.

She saw a few crewmen working on the deck of one ship in particular. She made her way over the dock and called out to them.

"Excuse me, gentlemen. Does this ship provide passage to the island of Solstheim?"

One man in particular stopped what he was doing and walked over to where the side of the ship and the dock met.

"Solstheim, you say? As a matter of fact, we're gearing up to head that way right now. You could climb aboard and ride with us if you'd like.", he said.

Katara's face lit up and she started to step off the dock and onto the ship. The captain abruptly put his hand on her shoulder and stopped her in her tracks.

"Whoa, whoa. I said you come along but it's going to cost you. 200 septims, please."

Katara's heart sank once again into her stomach. She slowly reached down and stuck her fingers into her coin purse, knowing good and well that she didn't have near enough.

"I don't have that much money..."

The captain looked down for a moment and tapped his foot like he was thinking. He looked Katara up and down, and she got a bad feeling of where this was heading.

"Say, that's a nice sword you have there.", he finally said, nodding his head to the sword that was sheathed at her side.

Well, that wasn't where she thought it going after all.

Without even taking a moment to think it over, Katara put her hand on her sword and said, "It's yours if you'll take me to Solstheim. Please, sir..."

The captian grinned and outstretched his hand for her to shake. Instead she stuck the handle of the sword into his palm and pushed past him onto the deck of the ship.

"Ha, fair enough. Just get down in the cabin and make yourself comfy."

The captain turned to his men. "Alright, lads. Prepare to set sail."

Several moments later the ship had left the docks and made its way out of the mouth of the river and into the snowy sea. Katara was finally going home. For the first time in almost a week she felt a sense of peace. She felt like she was in control. She escaped death several times, she killed a man who would've otherwise killed her, she donned her first set of armor, she saw a dragon, and she had made it halfway across the providence of Skyrim to get to this point.

She was going home.

Stepping foot back on the snowy Solstheim shore was best feeling Katara has ever had. It was the same shore she watched the Imperial ships roll in from just a week ago. She was tired, she was sore, she was hungry...but she was home. Katara took a deep breath and made her way up the familiar snowy slopes, an eager smile on her face.

She reached her village to find that it was completely empty. What was more alarming was the dark clouds that hovered above the Great Hall - the home of Storn and Freya. She rushed through the village and found Storn sitting cross legged around the common area.

"Storn? Where is everyone?", Katara asked, still doing circles around herself trying to find any of sign of the other Skaal.

Storn didn't reply. He remained still, his hands placed calmly in his lap, his grey eyes looking towards the sky. Katara had seen a similar look from him before. It was the same look he had when it was healing someone, or when he was meditating.

"Storn! Can you hear me?" she yelled. Still no change in Storn's demeanor.

Suddenly the doors to the Great Hall flew up and out ran Freya, her mouth agape and her eyes wide.

"Katara!", she ran over to Katara and grabbed her by the shoulders. She looked her over frantically several times almost as if to see if the sight of Katara standing in front of her was real or just a dream.

"How did you...are you really...what are you doing here?", Freya asked, having trouble piecing together her words.

Katara clasped her hands tightly on Freya's.

"It's a long...almost unbelievable story, Freya. But I'm here. That's all that matters."

Freya's face still did not soften. Something was seriously amiss.

"Where is everyone, Freya?"

Freya put her hand to her face and glanced around.

"Something is happening on this island, Katara. Just in past couple of days, everyone has been down by the Wind Stone. I'm not talking about waking up and going down there for the day, I'm talking about staying down there from dawn until dusk. And chanting - the awful chanting... "

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. Chanting? What do you mean by this?"

"They're in some sort of...trance. They just keep hammering the Stone and gathering ore all while repeating the same things over and over again. It's taken everything in me not to slice them with my sword in an effort to just get them to snap out of it."

Katara remained silent and glanced to the North where the Wind Stone stood a quarter of the mile away. A green aurora, similar to the one the black dragon had pierced the sky with, emitting from it.

"That's why father is out here like this.", Freya pointed to the dark could circling just overhead. "He's put a protective ward over the village to preserve the elder Skaal knowledge and shield us."

"Can you take me to the Stone?". Freya nodded and took off on foot, Katara running closely behind her.

The Wind Stone was the one in a set of five Stones that dotted the island of Solstheim. There was Air, Water, Beast, and Earth Stones. They were built by the early Mer (elves). Each Stone was symbolic of their own things and they were thought to be mementos to the Gods. However they were not worshipped and never have been before. The fact that the entire Skaal village was down there doing just that meant a greater force was at play here.

They reached the Wind Stone and horrifyingly Freya's words were true. Every Skaal was either chiseling at the Stone or collecting ore for building just off to the side.

"They won't respond to me, it's like they don't even see us.", Freya said scanning the group of them.

Ingrid almost walked directly into them when she was carrying ore from the ore vein to a wagon.

"And soon the world shall see...", she said in a very emotionless monotone voice.

"I am His hands..."

"And when the day comes, all mankind will know..."

They were all repeating the same phrases in the same hypnotic tone. Seeing this was almost as unbelievable as the dragon.

"We have to figure this out, Katara. This has to stop. These are Mer Stones, the dark elves would have some information about them. Maybe they can figure out what this means and what can be done to stop it.", Freya said, turning to run back to the village.

Moments later back at the Great Hall Freya handed Katara a branded iron helmet for her travels that had two small horns sticking out of the side at about ear level. She'd seen Baldor smithing these types of helmets before. It matched her branded iron armor.

"Can I get a sword as well?", Katara asked casually.

Freya stopped and whipped around to look at her speculatively.

"Since when did you take up carrying a sword?"

"Freya, like I said...its a long story.", Katara answered her wearily.

Freya only nodded and pulled a steel sword from off her armor rack. She grabbed a wooden shield as well.

"Here. The shield just adds a bit more protection should you not want to use the sword at every encounter.", she said as she handed them to Katara.

Katara took them and they both walked out of the Great Hall and out to where Storn was sitting, still unmoving.

As Katara was walking away to make her way out of the village, Storn spoke. Both girls rushed to his side to eagerly await his words. His eyes cleared for a moment and he licked his lips, he was still staring into the sky.

"The All-Maker has shown you your destiny, Katara Snow-Child. As prophecied, the time has come, my child. What you see happening around you will only worsen if you do not seek the path of that which you are destined to travel. You must return to the land of your Nordic ancestors and those who have prophecied of your great tale. Go to Skyrim, defeat the dragon Alduin - the World Eater. We should have acted, they're already here. The Elder Scrolls told of their return. Their defeat was merely delay til the time after Oblivion opened. This was told to come forth at a time when the sons of Skyrim would spill their own blood. But no one wanted to believe - believe dragons even existed. And when the truth finally dawns, it dawns in fire. But, there's one they fear. In their tongue you are 'Dovahkiin' - Dragonborn!"

Storn took a deep breath and his eyes glazed over again, losing consciousness again. Freya sat on her knees at his side with a stunned look on her face. Katara, the same.

The two sat in silence for a moment, staring at each other.

Freya broke the silence. "If this is true...then you have to go. At once. You're the only hope for saving our people...", she trailed off and rested her head on her father's shoulders, trying to hide the tears rolling down her cheeks. Storn was the oldest in the village, he wasn't in the prime health that he used to be. Freya worried over him every day as she looked after him. She could see how taxing this was on his frail body and old mind. She knew someday the village would be hers to look after, that all the Skaal people would look to her for leadership and guidance. Katara knew Freya never truly wanted that, she was a warrior. She enjoyed hunting animals or practicing her swordsmanship down by the shore. Katara had caught her fighting horkers occasionally as young girls, she always did it where her father couldn't see for fear of disappointing him. But Freya's love for her father ran deeper than her passions, and she was always protective over her people. She knew the day was approaching. She just didn't want it to be soon.

Katara said nothing but instead backed away and began hastily walking away from the village and down the road.

Katara was trying to process this new information while making her way down the road. She knew that if she headed to the South side of the island she'd eventually run into a Dunmer town by the name of Raven Rock, just a couple of hours on foot. Somehow she'd catch a ship and ride it back to Skyrim.

The thought of going back, and knowing she had to stay there for quite a while, terrified her. The words she had just heard Storn say to her were still bouncing around in her mind, she still didn't know what this all meant. She'd only hoped it'd become more clear...and soon.

"Storn said I was the 'Dovahkiin', which translates to 'Dragonborn'...", Katara relayed to herself, trying to break it down piece by piece. She remembers reading books with 'The Ancient Nords' written on the cover when she was a little bit younger.

Thousands and thousands of years ago, dragons ruled Skyrim. They took to the skies, terrorizing the Nords and eventually enslaving the entire providence and the Nordic race. The dragons were governed by the most powerful of all the dragons, Alduin. Alduin was given the alias "World Eater" by the nine divines. He was so powerful that he could consume worlds, making them his forever.

The dragons were gifted with their very own language called Dovah. Along with Dovah, they had what was called a Thu'um. Ancient Nord stories describe a Thu'um like a roar, only it sounds more like the dragon is shouting. There are many different types of Shouts - Fire, Frost, Unrelenting Force, and Marked for Death are to name a few. Each possessing a highly complex and powerful ability. With their Thu'ums, dragons ruled the land for hundreds of years.

But, there were a sparse few dragons that grew skeptical and worrisome of Alduin's reign. He became hungry for more, growing more sadistic and greedy by the day. They questioned if he was fit to lead. In an effort to knock Alduin from his powerful pedestal, these few dragons taught a handful of Nords the ancient art of the Thu'um.

Using their Thu'ums, the ancient Nords overpowered Alduin. They intended on defeating him, but instead they only sent him away.

The prophecy goes on to say that Alduin will return someday to reclaim Skyrim.

Katara had thought those were only fables that parents told their children when they wouldn't go to sleep at night. The signs of the prophecy were happening all around her...and according to Storn, she has something to with it? Katara did not know anything about a "Dragonborn" and what that meant, and more importantly what she had to do with it.

Her mind was swimming with confusion and she was trying to focus on the rocky path in front of her. She'd only just now realized that this was the first time her life she's gone this far from the village on her own. She instinctively reached down and placed her hand on the handle of the sword, just to feel it sheathed at her hip and know it was there.

Katara made her way down a small hill and was met with the sound of humming. She stopped in her tracks and turned her face towards the direction of the sound, she listened intently. Again the humming sound started, and Katara immediately realized it was the sound of a man humming to himself. She crouched down and made her way behind a rock. She scooted around to the other side of it and saw about 10 feet away from her in the clearing was a bandit sitting by his campfire. He was alone, which was rare for bandits, who always traveled in groups. He was wearing total leather armor except no helmet. He certainly caught her eye, both because he was a bandit and a Dumner. Dark elves have blueish black skin, and they always have orange or red eyes. Dunmer were a well versed and educated race, they were very articulate. His pointy ears poked through a few strands of his auburn hair that was pulled back into a short, tight ponytail.

If Katara could back away without being noticed then he may not become hostile. She shuffled carefully a few feet before her left foot slipped on a rock and the pebbles knocked together.

Immediately the bandit jumped up and unsheathed his sword. He looked all around him.

"Who's there? Come out now and I'll let you leave with your life...just not your valuables.", the bandit said aloud.

Katara remembered what Ralof had told her just a few days ago, about there being bad people in this world who wouldn't hesitate to kill her. Katara had swore to herself that shouldn't allow herself to be put in another position where she wasn't able to control her fate.

Making a decision, she placed her hand on the sword Freya had given her and began to step forward.

The Dunmer bandit saw her step out from behind the rocks and a sly smile formed on his lips.

"Ha! A young girl? Do you even know how to swing that thing?", he asked, inching closer with his weapon still drawn.

"Wanna find out?", Katara simply replied, keeping her composure but watching every move the bandit made. She raised her sword in a battle ready position, matching the bandit's.

Without saying anything else, the two lurched forwards at each other and their swords crossed, a loud "clanking" of their steel meeting sounding within a 20ft radius.

The bandit stepped back just for a brief moment to raise his sword again, landing it directly on Katara's left shoulder. Her branded iron armor took the force of the blow, but her arm still stung from the hard impact.

She spun around very swiftly but carefully and was able to pierce his leather armor with her blade in one swipe. The bandit cried out and doubled over, Katara rushed him. While he was down on his back she hovered over him. Bracing both hands on the handle of her weapon and bringing it up to her chest, she flipped the sword so the pointed end was just inches away from the bandit's ripped leather chest piece.

Then she plunged the cold steel directly into his heart.

A horrid gurgling came from his mouth and throat as Katara plucked the blood stained sword from his chest. Breathing heavily she rose up and gave the sword a few shakes to remove the excess droplets of blood.

Her adrenaline was still coursing through her veins. She could deny no longer that the weight of the steel sword in her hands made her feel powerful and in control. She never imagined she would kill someone, let alone two of them. Katara grew up hunting small game like foxes, rabbit, some elk and deer. Nothing like this. But this...felt good. It wasn't killing people that made her feel good, it was killing her foes. That was the Nord in Katara. They are a proud race that favors prowess in battle. Nords loved their people and their land, more so than all other races. If killing her enemies made the heros live to fight another day, then Katara would do it to all deserving of it.

She looted the bandit for what he had and noticed a bow and arrow lying next to his campfire. That would certainly come in handy if she needed to hunt or fight at a distance, Katara thought to herself. She grabbed them and fastened them to her back next to her shield. She took a quick view of her surroundings and carefully started her way back down the road.

A couple hours later Katara was finally approaching the town of Raven Rock. The air was extremely warm here, it was a night and day difference from the snowy Northern region. The town sat right on the shore of the Andale Sea. The sandy rock terrain gave the town a reddish orange tint during the setting sun. The houses and businesses that were around were built almost like designer huts. They sat low and most were built into the ground. They were made of beautiful, sleek bronze metals. On each post, business, and home hung big red lanterns. They were shaped like orbs and glowed brightly in the shadows. The Dunmer were a more sophisticated race that favored the finer things life had to offer, but they were skilled in the arcane arts - magicka. All elve races were.

Katara walked past the wall threshold into Raven Rock. First thing she needed to do was trade some things for money at a local inn. Hopefully she could buy passage back to Skyrim. This was last time she'd be in Solstheim for quite a while until she supposedly...figures out what role she plays in the madness happening all around.

Katara found The Retching Netch - a small 2 story inn. Opening the doors she was met with the sight of a few Dark Elves. One was sweeping in the corner, one was stirring a cooking pot over an open fire, and the rest were drinking.

Katara didn't see the innkeeper so she made her way to bottom floor to where the bar and dining hall was.

"Hello there, Miss.", one Dark Elf in particular said over the counter. "Can I get you a drink or some food?"

"Actually I'd like to barter a few things with you.", Katara said, sitting down at the barstool and plopping her knapsack onto the bar. The Dark Elf nodded gleefully and walked over to take a look at her inventory. She dumped the contents of her knapsack out so the innkeeper could look.

While the innkeeper was looking through her bag, something off to the side caught the corner of Katara's eye. She turned to catch a glimpse and was amused at what she saw. Sitting at a table with a bottle of sujamma (Dunmer beer) was a man donning a full suit of armor that resembled...bone? It was some sort of chitin or shell like material. From just under his eye line all the way down to where his breastplate met his neck, a red scarf like rag concealed him. He was sipping on sujamma and watching the ball patrons of the inn and dining hall.

"Uh huh, alright. How about I take the torch and the shield on your back there?", the innkeeper finally asked.

Katara jerks back towards the innkeeper.

"Sure, how about $300 the shield and $20 for the torch?"

The innkeeper made a quick thinking face and nodded. "Alright then!"

"Who is that guy over there? In the odd looking armor?", she asked him while he was adding up the septims to give to her.

He took a quick glance at the armored warrior and went back to counting. "Some mercenary for hire. He's been in here for a few months now looking for work. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen his face under that chitin armor."

Katara nodded. The innkeeper handed her the 320 septims and went back to refilling beer bottles. Katara stuffed them into her coin purse and turned to get off the barstool. She thought for a moment about the innkeeper's words.

"Wouldn't hurt to look into it...", Katara said to herself.

She marched over to where the armored warrior was sitting and sat at the chair opposite of the table from him. The two turned to face each other. Not even his eyes could be seen, goggle like glasses made out of a thick glass or mineral shielded his eyes. Between his red ascot covering his nose down his neck, his glasses, and his armor, every bit of this man's body was covered. The only thing you could tell about him was that was a man.

"Can I help you?", he asked abruptly, facing her and what she assumed looking at her.

"Uh, yes. Hi. I heard that you are for hire?", she asked nervously. Mercenaries are essentially nothing more than killers, thieves, and sidekicks who get paid to do so.

He sat there for a moment and then threw his head back in laughter. Katara noticed he was a Dunmer in his laugh.

"Who taught you to talk to a blade for hire like that?", he said, calming down from his laughter. His voice was unique, like most Dark Elves - articulate and matter of factly. He was almost...sassy.

"Uh, excuse me?", she asked.

"You don't just waltz up to a blade and ask if they're for hire - you plop a fat coin purse on the table, I stuff it in my pocket, and I follow you until one of three things happen: you dismiss me, I die, or you die. No questions asked, no handshaking. Straight to business.", he said. He pushed his red rag slightly down below his mouth so his nose and mouth were exposed while he took a sip of his sujamma. Katara noticed his blueish black skin and a thin black mustache just above his nose, seeming to outline his mouth and chin in the form of a clean shaven goatee.

"Well, I've never...done this sort of thing before.", she said, a bit embarrassed.

"Obviously.", he said, scoffing a bit. "So...you want to hire me?"

Katara thought for a moment. Heading to Skyrim with some help would be most beneficial, she had to admit.

"What are your...skills?", she asked.

"Yet ANOTHER question that you dont ask a blade for hire. You are supposed to let him show you in battle. But since you asked...I'm a spellsword."

She looked puzzled for a moment before asking, "A spellsword? What does that mean?"

"It means that I deal magicka damage as well as wield a sword.", he answered very simply.

Katara nodded.

"And I'm damn good at it, too!", he quickly added, putting his finger up to her face as if teaching her a newfound lesson.

Katara thought it over for a moment.

"Alright.", she said.

He jerked his head towards her with his arms crossed. "Alright, what?", he asked, a bit confused.

"I'd like to hire you.", Katara said

"Of course you do!", he said while laughing lightly. "It would be in your best interest. But you've gotten to ask me a plethora of questions so now I get to ask a few."

She nodded and listened intently.

"I noticed you trading with the innkeeper. You trying to get some coin to travel? If so, where?", he asked. His tone suddenly turning from lighthearted to business.

"Skyrim. I'll be there for a while. I'm not familiar with the land at all and -"

"Ah, Skyrim!", he interrupted. "I've spent a great deal of time in Skyrim."

She perked up in her seat a bit. "You have? That's wonderful to hear, actually. But why are you here?"

He paused, leaned back in his seat, and turned towards her again.

"The last person to hire me was a true Nord, much like yourself. He was a fearless, crazy bastard with a thirst for battle. So one day this bandit steals his horse and makes away with it. My boss was furious. We tracked this single bandit for 2 weeks straight. Day and night, night and day, we waited and watched his every move. The Nord was hell bent on getting his damn horse back and seeking revenge... "

Katara's eyes widened, his story telling was brilliant and she clung to every word.

"Eventually we tracked the bandit back to the largest bandit camp I've ever seen. My boss didn't care, he wanted bloodshed. It was at that moment that I told him I could no longer fight by his side in this endeavor. Two of us versus almost a hundred or so of them? It wasn't an eye for an eye - it was a suicide mission. The Nord just gave me a slow, sly smile. I knew what that face meant. It meant he wasn't coming out of there alive, and he was okay with that. Never saw the crazy bastard again. ", he finished, his tone as serious as it could be. He took one more sip of his sujamma and set it back down on the table.

"Anyway, that's how I ended up here on Solstheim looking for folks who'd like to hire me. Which appears to be you.", he outstretched his gloved hand for Katara to shake. "Teldryn Sero, at your service."


	4. Four: Because I Must

**Chapter** **Four**

Almost two days later Katara and Teldryn arrived in Skyrim. On the ship ride back she told him all the events of the past week leading up to why she was going to Skyrim. As pompous as he may let on to be, he listened to her every story and didn't pass judgment. When she told him about the prophecy that Storn foretold of and that she was somehow a piece of it, he didn't seem fearful of what may or may not lie ahead. Then again, being a Mer, ancient Nordic prophecies probably didn't cater to him - he may have not even believed that it had any truth to it. If so, he didn't tell that to Katara.

"I'm telling you, Windhelm would be the best place to learn about these ancient Nord tales of yours. Luckily we're docking at its port. It would be wise to stay there for a night or so. If you don't find out anything then we'll make our way elsewhere, but this at least gives us time to map out a journey.", Teldryn said to her as the ship began to dock at the East Empire Trading outpost just outside of Windhelm. Teldryn was absolutely right. Katara felt relieved for a moment to be traveling with someone who had experienced a life on the road before.

"You should be quite welcome in Windhelm...", Teldryn commented dryly as they made their way over the ice stone bridge from the docks to the road, their belongings on their backs and in their hands.

"Why do you say that?", Katara asked.

"Well, you're a Nord - or at least some kind of half bred one. I hate to break this to you but Nords as a whole aren't exactly friendly to other races. And Windhelm is the Stormcloak capital where a lot of traditional Nords reside. Did you know that it's actually the only city in Skyrim that has a sector just for Dark Elves?"

Katara almost couldn't believe her ears.

"What? No way...", she said laughing.

Teldryn did not laugh however. "It's true. It's called the Gray Quarter. It's a lower tier sector of the city that houses just Dark Elves. I lived there for a few years.", Teldryn said as seriously and simply as he could.

Katara gave him and unsure look and slowed down in her walking pace.

"We can go elsewhere, Teldryn. I'm sure there's a farm or something nearby...", she softly said.

Teldryn turned swiftly to her and with sincerity said, "No, stop that. Don't take pity on me. It's not like Dunmer are slaves here. They still get the same food, clothing, and beds as the Nord citizens. They get to work. They're just...tolerated. That's the best I can describe it. One night or two isn't going to hurt me, you've heard my stories. Come on, let's get in there. I'm afraid I'm not used to this dreadful snow and ice."

Windhelm was exactly how Katara had imagined it to be the first day she arrived outside the city to jump aboard the ship to Solstheim. Everything was stone and caked with a thin layer of ice and snow. Some bigger mounds of white snow accumulated in corners around the city. The first thing Katara saw when walking through the city gates was a huge inn. To her left was a stone hall that led to some shops and nice housing. To her right was a similar stone hall that led down to the Gray Quarter.

"Candlehearth Hall is a nice inn and bar. We can rent cheap rooms there for the night.", Teldryn said as they walked to the front door of the inn.

Inside the sound of a flute playing immediately filled Katara's ears. The delicious smell of cooking beef and vegetables made its way to her nostrils. Dozens of people chattering throughout the inn and the occasional sound of boisterous laughter mixed in with everything around her. It was a fun, vibrant atmosphere.

"I need two rooms, please. I think 20 septims should cover it.", Teldryn said to the innkeeper.

The innkeeper took his payment and led Teldryn down the hall to the rooms. Katara decided she was going to have a look around.

She walked up the stairs leading to the second floor and took a good view of the layout. The were a number of Nord bar patrons sitting around and drinking, laughing and sharing tales. In the front of the room was a Dark Elf woman who was singing songs and playing her flute. She seemed to be enjoying it, and she was actually a very good singer. There were a couple patrons dancing to her tunes with their drinks in hand.

Katara sat down at the bar and the bartender came up to her.

"What'll it be, honey?", she asked.

"A glass of milk, please."

"A glass of milk?", Teldryn suddenly spoke up. Katara spun around and saw him walking up behind her, sitting down next on the barstool next to her. "You can't be a Nord, come to Windhelm, and order milk at a bar. You know what that makes you?"

"Don't say it..", Katara replied with a groan.

"A literal milk drinker.", he said as quick as a whip. "A bottle of wine, please.", he added, nodding to the bartender.

The bartender returned with the bottle of wine and two tankards. Teldryn took the bottle and filled the two tankards to the brim. He slid one over to Katara.

"You mentioned on the ship that you don't care for mead and I have to admit that Nord mead tastes like piss. But you can't go wrong with wine.", he said, taking a sip of his.

Katara took a gulp of hers. It had a fresh grape flavor. It was sweet and delightful to her tastebuds.

"Actually, that's not bad.", she admitted to Teldryn while taking another big gulp. He lightly laughed and raised his glass in a pantamime cheers. He spun so his back was resting against the bar counter and he was facing the big room filled with its patrons. He listened to the bard sing her tunes.

"You know Ulfric Stormcloak is the Jarl here, right? You mentioned on the ship that he was headed for the chopping block along with you at Helgen.", Teldryn asked as he sipped from his tankard.

Katara's mind flashed to Ralof. "Yes, a friend once told me he's the Jarl here. The Imperial General wanted to execute him last, so he could witness his men die. He was gagged so he couldn't -."

Teldryn cut her off abruptly. "Wait, Ulfric was gagged?", he made a puzzled look for a split moment before saying, "I suppose that makes sense given the circumstances..."

She was intrigued. "Why would they gag him and no one else?"

"Don't you know?", he asked sincerely, looking at her with a look of almost concern.

Katara just shook her head, still not grasping it.

"Wow, you Skaal folks really do live a reclusive life. The news spread through all the providences of Tamriel. You know Ulfric killed the Skyrim's High King, Torygg. Well, word has it that he didn't just kill him in an old fashioned duel. Ulfric used the Way of the Voice. He shouted him to death. Ripped him straight to pieces from what I hear... ", Teldryn said, keeping his voice somewhat low. A Dark Elf talking out loud about such situations could leave the citizens of Windhelm even more hateful and suspicious of the Dunmer, "I presume the gag was to prevent him from shouting his way out of the execution."

Katara turned to look at him, "Wait, you mean a Thu'um? He used his Thu'um?"

"I've heard some call it a Thu'um, yes. I'm afraid I'm not terribly knowledgeable about ancient Nord legends.", he replied.

"Teldryn, I've read about 'shouts' and in some rare cases humans learning the Way of the Voice - as was passed down by the ancient Nords who were taught the power of the Thu'um by the Dragons during the enslavement and rebellion Era of Skyrim.", she said to him, still piecing it all together in her mind.

Ulfric had the power to shout? He's just a mortal human, he had to have learned it from someone in the past. If true, he could possibly be the first and greatest lead on figuring out the fate that Storn had prophecied for her on that last day in the village...

"You need to speak with Ulfric then. He would know better about this...Thu'um...than any of us.", Teldryn said.

He was right. This was information that she couldn't pass up. She glanced out the window at the setting sun.

"Don't worry, it's not nightfall yet. The Jarl should not have yet resided to his bed chambers for the night.", Teldryn said.

Katara hopped off her stool and set her tankard down on the bar. "Will you be here when I return?"

"Of course. The wine is good and the music is even better," he said, taking a sip of from his cup and looking at the woman playing her flute. "Besides, I may just get drunk and try to bed the bard..."

Katara rolled her eyes but lightly smirked. She walked downstairs and out of the inn, making her way to the stone palace sitting in the back of the city.

The Blue Palace, as the locals referred to it, was stunning. Inside the main hall sat the longest dinner table Katara had ever seen. It was covered from end to end in every kind of delicacy and treat one could think of - sweet rolls, taffy treat, apple pie, salmon steak, mammoth steak, a wide variety of vegetables, and a lot of mead and wine. Decorative candles and chandeliers lit the room with a warm and inviting glow. On the walls hung banners of blue that featured the snarling bear on them, the Stormcloak emblem. A place this fancy only existed in her fantasies.

Ulfric Stormcloak was the most powerful person Katara has ever met - more so because he was a powerful figure already. He was a Jarl which meant that he was in charge of an entire region, or hold, in Skyrim. This is the man that single handedly started the Civil War in Skyrim. There were people and armies plotting somewhere this very moment on how to send him to a gruesome death, plotting his next move and next plan of attack.

Katara tentatively made her way from the doors and down the length of the main hall towards the throne where Ulfric sat. She began to pick up a conversation between Ulfric and a dark skinned man standing next to him that was dressed in bear pelt armor.

"We need troops in the Hjallmarch hold, Galmar. No doubt the Empire is aware of our growth, they'll be sending more troops over from the Imperial city in Cyrodil. If we take Hjallmarch then we can catch them at the border.", Ulfric commented.

"Aye. I agree. I'll send a detachment caravan to the hold at once.", Galmar, the dark skinned man, replied.

"Thank you, friend.", Ulfric replied.

A man wearing a red nobles outfit standing to the other side of Ulfric noticed Katara approach the throne.

"Can I help you, ma'am? Any business you have with the Jarl can be directed to me.", he said, readying a quill and a role of paper, prepared to jot down anything she said.

"Jorleif, it's fine.", Ulfric chimed in. "Excuse my steward. He's a sound man at his job, and does it with pride.", he smiled at Jorleif and Jorleif nodded back with a smile.

Ulfric turned his attention to Katara standing in front of him. Katara was able to get a better look at him than she did that hectic day at Helgen. He was a tall man, even sitting down. Katara guessed his was in his very early 30s. His sandy blonde hair fell to his ears. On one side he had a small tight braid threaded into his hair. His eyes were icey blue, resembling the signature Stormcloak blue that donned the halls of the Blue Palace. He was wearing fine blue robes with a bear pelt wrapped around his shoulders, fur boots on his feet.

"I don't recall seeing you here before, kinsman. What brings you to Windhelm?", he asked her calmly and direct.

All eyes on he, she gulped slightly and spoke up. "I was at Helgen, my Jarl.". Ulfric's face suddenly changed to that of curiosity and attentiveness.

"You do have a familiar look about you. Oh yes...you were headed for the axe when the dragon attacked, weren't you?"

"Yes, that was me. I'd like to talk to you about that day, if you have the time to -"

"I'm sure the Jarl doesn't need to concern himself with matters like this with the war raging out there.", Jorleif spoke up again.

Ulfric turned to him and stuck his hand up. "Nonsense, Jorleif. Her and I have shared trauma of a legendary day in Skyrim's history. It's important that we speak of this together."

Ulfric stood up from his throne and motioned for Katara to follow him. "We can speak in here."

He led them down a small hallway and into a smaller room with a tables, a few chairs, and a large map on the center table. It was a full map of Skyrim, much like the one she still has from Gerdur. In certain cities there were little blue flags, in others were red flags. Ulfric grabbed a tablecloth and threw it over the map.

"Apologies, kinsman. Only myself and Stormcloak soldiers are allowed to see our strategies. It's in our best interest. Can't have information of our every move told to the Imperial army." He folded his arms and stood across the table from her. "So, Helgen. That was quite a day, wasn't it..."

Katara nodded in agreement. "That dragon we saw, it's real?", she asked.

"Yes, I'm afraid it was. That was Alduin - the World Eater. Just as the stories told of."

"So you know about this prophecy? Do you know anything about a Dragonborn?"

"Indeed. Ancient Nordic legends describe the Dragonborn as the savior of Skyrim from Alduin's return. The Dragonborn has the mortality and physique of a human, but the soul and spirit of a dragon. It's prophecied that the Dragonborn will defeat Alduin using the Voice. I have to tell you, I've been a faithful Nord my entire life, but I never imagined the children's tales would be true. If the legends are true, then Alduin is rallying dragons by the day to join his forces. I'm in the midst of one war, but this? This is much more terrifying than swords clashing...", Ulfric finally finished. He looked distant for a moment, almost weary.

Katara tried to keep her composure receiving this new information and a missing piece to her puzzle.

"My Jarl, I -"

"Please, call me Ulfric. You're not a citizen of Windhelm. There's no need for fancies."

"Ulfric, I came here because I wanted to know more about these shouts - the Voice. I've heard that you were gagged at the execution because you have the gift of the Voice and used it on Torygg..."

Ulfric looked at her intensely for a second, as if recalling the event in his mind. To only see that moment from his eyes...

"Yes, that's correct. I've mastered the Thu'um, albeit a simpler one than the many there are to learn. Ancient Nords passed the knowledge and training down to a select few Nords each generation. I was taught by the Greybeards up in High Hrothgar. I've only been able to master one shout - the ability to push anything and anyone standing in my path away by using a great force of air. That's how I did it. Torygg, I mean. That's my battle story, kinsman. Actually, what is your name?"

"My name is Katara Snow-Child. I believe I may be the Dragonborn, Ulfric."

Ulfric nearly fell over when he heard her words.

"You believe that you're the Dragonborn? What led to this assumption?", he asked curiously.

Katara told him everything that Storn had said that last night in the village.

"The Skaal, huh? Those shamans know the ancient legends better than any of us, I suppose.", he finally said. Still looking at her with a look of disbelief.

"Yes, but I haven't mastered this Thu'um yet. I don't think I'm even gifted with it.", Katara said defeatedly. Slightly pacing around the room.

"There's only a few in Skyrim who can bestow upon you the gift of the Voice, and that's the Greybeards.", he stated.

"Greybeards?"

"They're a reclusive group that lives at the top of High Hrothgar. They've been masters of the Voice for ages. They stay on their mountain top day and night, never meddling themselves with the day to day lives and wars and politics.", Ulfric replied.

"I would just need to visit them at High Hrothgar, right?", she asked genuinely.

He stood up and lightly shook his head. "No. You can only be summoned by them - invited, if you will. Yes. They chose me when I was just a lad. It was a great honor, of course. I was to become a Greybeard myself. I spent almost ten years at High Hrothgar, learning the Way of the Voice. Then the Great War came... I couldn't stand missing it. I often think about High Hrothgar. It's very... disconnected from the troubles down here. But that's why I couldn't stay, and why I couldn't go back. I suppose the Greybeards care about Skyrim's troubles, in their way, but I needed to do something about it. I'm sure Arngeir would call it one of my failings."

Katara sighed as she was still a bit unsure about everything. Would the Greybeards summon her if they believed she was the Dragonborn? The thoughts made her weary and the sun had fully set by this time, but Ulfric didn't seem to mind talking to her so she pressed him for one more question.

"Why are you fighting this war, Ulfric?", Katara simply asked him. Something about this man has made her feel more comfortable than anyone else she's met in her travels so far. She needed to know.

Ulfric paused for a long moment before replying. "I fight for the men I've held in my arms, dying on foreign soil. I fight for their wives and children, who's names I heard whispered in their last breaths. I fight for we few who did come home, only to find our country full of strangers wearing familiar faces. I fight for my people impoverished to pay the debts of an Empire too weak to rule them, yet brands them criminals for wanting to rule themselves! I fight so that all the fighting I've already done hasn't been for nothing. I fight... because I must."

Katara remained attentively silent, knowing he had more to say.

"We're fighting because we're done bleeding for an Empire that won't bleed for us. Untold numbers of Nords died defending the Empire in generations past, and for what? So they could take away our rights to worship Talos, the Nordic demigod! If the Empire takes away our freedom of religion, then everything else that can be stripped of us will be. There won't be any stopping them after that. We're fighting because our own Jarls, once strong, wise men, have become fearful and blind to their people's suffering. We're fighting because Skyrim needs heroes, and there's no one else but us."

Katara slowly nodded when he finished. His words stirred a fire in her belly, he was indeed a fearless Nord that held tradition and honor close to his heart.

"I'm afraid it's getting late. I must retire to my bed for the night. I sincerely do wish the best for you, Katara. The gods can't be wrong, they never have been before. I believe you are the Dragonborn.", Ulfric said, making his way around the table and towards the door.

Before he opened the door Katara stopped him.

"I want you to know something, Ulfric..."

He turned his attention on her and listened.

"I side with you in this war, but the politics of Skyrim are terrifyingly new to a Skaal like myself. Nor can I let it interfere with...whatever is going on with me. But I do support you. I support the termination of the Empire that almost sent me to my death that fateful day. One day, if you'll have me, perhaps I could join your forces. Not yet...but one day. "

Ulfric smiled and stared directly at her.

"I greatly admire your desire to stay true to your destiny, Katara.", he turned back to open the door. "And yes, I would have you.", he added as he left.

Katara grinned when he was finally out of the room. She needed to head back to Candlehearth Hall and get some sleep herself.

Katara made her way across the city from the Blue Palace to Candlehearth Hall. There were still a couple patrons enjoying their drinks and the music was playing softly. Most of the people previously in the inn had went home or retired to their beds for the night. Katara didn't see Teldryn, assuming he was in his room asleep. She found her room and closed the wooden door. Changing into her belted tunic from her knapsack, she laid down on the hay bed with a pelt tossed over it. Crawling under the warmth of the pelt she decided to study her map once more, trying to familiarize herself with Skyrim. She located High Hrothgar on the map and with the quill setting on her night table, she made a small circle over the point on the map. If Ulfric was right in having to be summoned by the Greybeards then her hands were tied as what to do next. Where should they go next? She scanned the map. They were on the extreme north eastern region in the Eastmarch hold. There were a few smaller towns throughout the hold but Windhelm was the major metropolitan city. Below Eastmarch in the south eastern region was the Rift hold. It's major city appeared to be Riften - also small towns dotting the hold's landscape. In the central region was the Whiterun hold, home to the city of Whiterun. In the southernmost region was the Hjallmarch hold. Katara remembered the conversation she overheard between Ulfric and Galmar about taking control of the Hjallmarch hold. Falkreath was the city there. Scanning the opposite side of the map, a city by the name of Markarth stood in the extreme western region, in the Reach hold. Above that to the northwest stood Solitude. Solitude was the Imperial city of Skyrim. It doesn't mean that Imperials exclusively lived there, but it meant that the Empire's presence was the heaviest there. Katara knew that wherever they began to travel to tomorrow, Solitude was not yet an option. The last thing she needed was Legion soldiers recognizing that she was an escapee from Helgen.

Katara yawned wearily and rolled the map up and placed it back in her knapsack. She blew out the candles at her bedside and swiftly fell asleep for the night, the soft playing of music upstairs lullabying her.

Morning came and Teldryn and Katara met each other at a table in the inn. The two ordered breakfast - Katara with her sweet roll and Teldryn with his slice of apple pie, the two shared a little bit of wine.

"So, I presume that you and your lover had a good talk last night? I didn't see you come back when I had already went to bed.", Teldryn asked. Katara would've bet everything that his eyebrows were raised in a sarcastic manner under that damn armor of his.

"Ulfric is not my lover.", she replied dryly and defensively. "But yes, we did have a good talk. He was able to give me more information on the dragon situation and Thu'ums. However, I've hit a dilemma. The Greybeards are the only one who can teach me the Way of the Voice, and I have to be summoned by them."

"Hmm. That does leave us in a bit of a rut, I'd say.", Teldryn said, lifting his scarf and taking a small bite of his pie. "There's no indication of when or where these Greybeards will summon you?"

Katara shook her head, "Not to my understanding."

Teldryn wiped the crumbs from his mouth. "Well, there's no use staying put. I say once we're finished up here then we head for Whiterun - beautiful town in a warmer climate. You can see the top of High Hrothgar from there as well. So if you happen to be summoned, surely we'll know about it."

"There's an excellent blacksmith in Whiterun as well, I'd like get you some new armor while we're there.", he added, motioning to her branded iron armor.

"What's wrong with that I currently have?", she asked.

"Well, nothing. But you have leather gauntlets and leather boots. If the rest of your armor is iron then why not make it a full set?"

He had a point. Katara knew she'd be facing more battles from here on out, it wouldn't hurt to be as protected as possible.

"Perhaps we could look into a new sword as well?", she asked, as if asking a parent for permission.

"Why do you need a new sword?", he replied, taking a quick peek at the sword sheathed at her side.

"Well, I've noticed that a sword is fine but I feel I'd be more comfortable with a two handed weapon - something I could choke up on and swing."

"You mean like a greatsword, a battleaxe, or a warhammer? Those are all weapons that require two hands. They're a lot heavier than the steel stick you have there though...", he warned.

"I can handle it.", she replied matter of factly. "Besides, you could always teach me.", she added.

Teldryn sighed sarcastically. "So now I'm a trainer, eh?"

"Hey, I paid you to be at my every command and service."

"Well, you're not paying me enough.", he muttered under his breath. Katara slightly giggled.

"We outta buy a horse to help with carrying any new gear or supplies we get. Whiterun is about a day and half away. I don't plan on stopping at any inns along the way to delay us.", Teldryn said as they made their way to Windhelm stables.

"Wait, you don't want to stop on the way?", Katara asked puzzled.

Teldryn turned back to her. "What's the matter - afraid of the roads? We're going to be fine. We'll take shifts. You can rest on the horse while I walk alongside and stay on guard, and vice versa. I've done this many of times, Katara. As long as we stick to the roads then the worse we'll encounter are a few wolves. Deal?"

Katara sighed but she knew he was right. "Alright, I trust your judgment. But I don't have enough coin for a horse."

They stopped just shy of the stables where a handful of horses were standing around in their stalls, either drinking water or eating their hay. The stable keeper was shoveling manure off to the side.

"Hmm, that is a problem. Not to worry. I think we can pull this off.", he said conclusively.

"Um, pull what off?", she asked nervously.

"I'll distract the stable keeper and you hop on the horse and ride about a mile that way.", he stated, pointing to the West of the stables, out of the keepers line of vision."

"But..."

"Ah, good day!", Teldryn ignored her and hollered at the man. He was a Wood Elf, his skin a dark yellow with pointy ears and emerald eyes. "My, what fine steeds these are. Tell me, do you breed them yourself or are they imported?"

The Wood Elf seemed to perk up at someone complimenting horses. He put the shovel down and began chatting away with Teldryn.

Katara carefully broke away from the two and made her way around the side of the stables. She chose the horse closest to the end so it would be easier to take. Teldryn's fake conversation carried on in the background. She slipped into the mare's stall and put one foot in the stirrup. Hoisting herself up, she carefully spun around and seated herself, placing the another foot in the second the stirrup. Quietly, she made a clicking noise in the horse's ear. The horse began to exit the stables with a slow trott, eventually speeding up to a gallop as they made their way down the road. She noticed Teldryn sneaking subtle glances at her as he ended his diversion.

A mile or two down the road Teldryn caught up to them. He was a bit out of breath from running.

"Told you that would work." he said, lightly laughing in their victory. "It does every time."

Katara grinned from ear to ear, pleased at herself for pulling it off. "What can I say...you're the master.". She laughed as the horse trotted merrily down the road.

Teldryn, still breathing heavy, took his chitin helmet off to wipe the sweat from the inside of his goggles and his forehead. Katara stared at him for a long moment.

"You know this is the first time I've seen your face since meeting you a few days ago?" she told him. Teldryn had a thin face and a defined brow. A small black goatee circled his jaw. His eyes were red, like most Dark Elves. His hair was shaven bald on every side except for the tall, sleek black Mohawk running right down the middle of his head to the nape of his neck. He had light purple tribal war paint going down his neck.

"Yes, well...its just a niche of mine, I suppose. I may jest but I feel like being fully armored at most times can prove life saving. And before you ask, no, I don't sleep in my armor unless it's necessary.", he answered, wiping some final smudges with his red scarf. He placed the newly cleaned helmet back on and raised his scarf back over his mouth and nose.

He plucked the map out of Katara's knapsack that was strapped to the hide of the horse. Walking alongside her and the horse, he examined it.

"We should he nearing Ivarstead by nightfall. We'll get most of the traveling done today so that leave us with roughly 2 or 3 hours til we make it to Whiterun. We'll let the horse feed and drink at Ivarstead for a few minutes, maybe grab a bottle of wine for the road, then get back to it.", Teldryn said.

The afternoon came and by this point Katara had hopped off the horse to join Teldryn in walking alongside it. They both let the horse carry their belongings. The scenery had changed and so did the temperature. It was a bit warmer and the snow had begun to subside, she could actually see the sun. The trees were adorned with yellow and orange leaves, indicating fall-like weather. The two of them came to a sign posted on the side of the cobble stone road.

The sign read:

Riften ️

Windhelm ️

Ivarstead ️

Teldryn looked at it and continued walking straight towards the direction of Ivarstead.

"What can you tell me about the Rift, Tel?", Katara asked when they passed the sign and she looked down the road that pointed to Riften. Teldryn glanced down the road himself.

"The Rift is actually very beautiful. We're on the edge of the hold right now, as a matter of fact. Lots of leaves everywhere and beautiful lakes. I've never been to Riften though. I hear it's a corrupt swamp."

"What's corrupt about it?"

"From what I've heard, the whole damn place is ran by the Thieves Guild.", he answered.

Katara opened her mouth to speak and Teldryn spoke up instead, anticipating her question.

"The Theives Guild is exactly what it sounds like - an organization of theives and robbers. They're not killers, but they'll suck you dry of every coin if they're able to. Maven Black-Briar is a very wealthy and well-respected citizen of Riften. Word has it that she's in bed with the Guild, and well...she's in bed with the Jarl. Literally. So from what I understand the Theives Guild pretty much runs the joint."

Katara shook her head, "A professional group of theives? That just doesn't seem right."

Teldryn turned his head to her and she knew he had one brow cocked in curiosity. "I don't know...if the coin is as good as they say it is, I'd join up.", he laughed slyly.

Just then they came to a bend in the road. A few yards ahead of them they saw a troll - a three eyed, tall, muscular carnivorous creature. Teldryn halted the horse and Katara abruptly.

"Shh, shh. Kat, tie the horse up over there to that tree and stay as quiet as you can.", he ordered, a serious tone in his voice.

"Are you going to kill that thing?", she asked hesitantly but still carrying out as he instructed, leading the horse quietly to the side of the road and out of view.

"No, I'm going to invite it to dinner and drinks.", he sarcastically replied, slowly placing one hand on his sword. Katara gave him an unamused look.

The troll was feeding on a recently killed goat. His humongous paws tearing into its guts and gnawing on its bloody bones. An occasional groan echoed through its large, muscular chest.

Teldryn inched closer and quickly unsheathed his sword, but the troll still heard it and swiftly turned around from his meal. Meeting Teldryn's eyes.

Teldryn raised his right hand and formed it in a position as if he were holding a ball. Slowly a golden ember ignited in his palm, by the second it grew larger and brighter until it was a steady flame hovering in his hand. Katara had never seen anything like it - magicka. It was beautiful and deadly at the same time.

The troll stood up and roared at Teldryn, who seemed unphased by it. It then lunged forward and began hobbling down the road and towards Teldryn.

Teldryn immediately extended his arm and aimed it at the troll. Flames shot from his hand in the form of a blazing fireball. It hit the troll square in the chest, causing it to lose its balance but quickly regain it. Teldryn sent another fireball hurling at it, this time grazing the troll's shoulder. Fireball after fireball hit the troll in some way, each time doing more damage but the troll was still sprinting towards Teldryn fueled by sheer anger and pain.

The beast was a mere 5 feet away when Teldryn sent one final blast to its chest. This caused the troll to start to fall face forward as he was running towards Teldryn.

"Teldryn!", Katara yelled grabbing her sword as an instinct.

The troll fell forward and with his sword, Teldryn braced his two hands on it and extended it outwards. The troll fell directly on his blade and died with a bleak roar echoing through its throat.

He placed his foot on the shoulder of the troll and pushed, while at the same time pulling his sword out of the troll's chest. He sheathed his sword again and walked over to Katara, who was standing by the horse in awe.

"That was...incredible.", she stammered.

"Yes", he replied calmly. "Trolls are fascinatingly stupid creatures."

"Not the troll, your magicka. I've never seen anything like that."

Teldryn took off his helmet and began to once again wipe the sweat from his brow.

"I could teach you some magicka here and there if you'd like. It's an important and powerful skill to posses, it must be wielded with responsibility." Teldryn kept his helmet off and climbed on top of the horse. He fashioned his helmet to the back of his armor and took the reigns. "If you don't mind, I'm going to take my rest on the horse. Lead on, you'll be fine. Just follow the signs. Ivarstead is about an hour away."


	5. Five: The Legends Are True

**Chapter Five**

They arrived in Ivarstead just as Teldryn had anticipated. It was a quiet little town, much like Riverwood. It had an inn, a couple farm houses with crops, and a few homes. What made Ivarstead different from the other towns was the sight that laid in front of them.

Teldryn pointed to the tallest mountain Katara had ever seen. It was covered in snow and reached into the clouds.

"That's High Hrothgar - the tallest mountain in Skyrim.", he said as he tied the reigns of the horse to a pole.

"How do you even get up there?", Katara asked, holding her hand over her eyes to block the sun so she could look up and take in the massive beauty of the mountain.

"See that bridge over there?", Teldryn said, pointing to a small bridge that led over the river and to the base of the mountain. "They call it the '7,000 Steps'. I'm not sure if there's actually 7,000 steps but needless to say it's a very strenuous trek up the mountain to the top."

Katara could only imagine the view from up there. She bet that you could see any and all points of Skyrim from the top.

The two of them lazily walked into the inn for a bottle of wine and a salmon steak. There was a long fire pit, scaling the length of the room, that sat in the dining hall for patrons to gather around. A couple pots of stew were cooking on each end of the fire.

Teldryn stood by the fire for a moment. Although it was considerably warmer here, he still wasnt used to it. Katara made her way to the innkeeper.

"If it's some mead or a bed you need, just let me know.", she said cheerfully, wiping down the bar with a damp rag.

"One bottle of wine please and two salmon steaks.", Katara requested of her. She plopped a few septims down on the counter and the innkeeper fetched her the wine and food.

She made her way back to where Teldryn was standing and extended the bottle of wine to him, which he gladly accepted and took a sip of. He was listening to the bard, a younger Nord man, playing tunes on his guitar. They inched their way closer to the music. His melody went as so:

"Our hero, our hero claims a warrior's heart.

I tell you, I tell you the Dragonborn comes,

With a voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art.

Believe, believe the Dragonborn comes.

It's an end to the evil of all Skyrim's foes.

For the darkness has passed, and the legend yet grows.

You'll know, you'll know the Dragonborns come..."

The oddest feeling ever washed over Katara in that moment. No one in this room knew he was singing about her. To hear people sing tales of her made her stomach churn, like she's afraid of failing and letting others down. Especially since she didn't know when or where the Greybeards would supposedly summon her...or if they even would. She was beginning to doubt the prophecy. Teldryn noticed her uncomfortable shift and nudged her arm.

"Rest your feet for a moment, we've still got another hour two of traveling til we hit Whiterun.", he softly instructed.

Just then a rumbling echoed around them. Everyone in the inn went still for a moment, listening closely. A faint roar followed. Katara's stomach dropped and she went pale. She'd heard that roar before...

Everyone rushed outside and looked up at the skies, their eyes wide and mouths agape. Barreling towards Ivarstead was a green dragon. It descended and landed on the road, peering over at the town. A few of the townsfolk screamed and began running, others were frozen in their places at the sight.

"By the gods...", Teldryn softly said. For the first time since meeting him, Katara sensed fear in his voice.

This dragon wasn't Alduin, it was greenish and its horns weren't as prominent as Alduin's. It's eyes were yellow, it's fangs hanging over its lips, curled into the form of a snarl.

The dragon lifted its massive body up and with a few flaps of its wings, took to the air again. The guards of Ivarstead hastily pulled out their swords and bows. They began pumping arrows into the dragon as it was flying overhead. It dove in every direction, then to Katara's worst nightmare it opened its mouth and unleashed a steady stream of fire from its throat. It set fire to a house on the other side of town then dove straight up into the air again, scanning the town for its next target.

Teldryn leaped into action and unsheathed his sword, at the same forming a fireball in his other hand. Every able bodied man in the village with a weapon pulled them out and stood ready. Katara pulled out her bow and readied a sharp arrow in the quiver. She pointed upwards and followed the dragon's flight, closing one eye she sent the arrow flying into the dragon's wing. A rain of arrows from her and the guards combined with Teldryn's fireballs sent the dragon screeching and roaring towards the ground. The dragon hit the ground hard, causing what felt like a sharp earthquake to be felt throughout the town. It staggered everyone who was still outside, causing them to lose their balance briefly.

The guards with swords rushed towards the hurting, angry dragon and began furiously slashing and slicing at its scales. Teldryn followed after them with his sword drawn. Katara grabbed for the sword at her hip.

It's flight or fight, Katara...

Making a decision, she unsheathed her sword and charged towards the roaring beast with the other men.

The dragon thrashed about wildly, obviously in a great deal of pain...and anger. She ran to the left side of the dragon and began stabbing holes into its wing, hoping that would at least prevent it from taking flight again. She was dodging it's tremendous stomping and thrashing, trying to steady her balance as the ground shook under them with each movement. The dragon smelled of fire and rotting flesh, almost like sulfur. It's green scales were thick but were slowly being penetrated by the onslaught of swords and arrows.

One guard made the mistake of getting too close to the dragon's face. He lunged at it with his sword, echoing a battle cry. The dragon promptly grabbed him by its jaws and shook the guard violently. Katara could hear the sound of the guard's bones being crushed by its massive teeth. Blood poured from his body and out of the mouth of the dragon, slipping onto the ground. When the guard's dying screams of agony ended, the dragon tossed his lifeless body several feet away into the woods.

When it's neck was raised, a dozen guards began slicing into its jugular. Katara braced her sword with both hands and plunged her weapon into the beast's side. After a few moments of repeating this, the dragon echoed his last roar and fell face forward into the dirt, shaking the ground as it hit.

The remaining guards, Teldryn, and Katara doubled over in exhaustion and disbelief. All of them catching their breath. The townsfolk slowly began emerging from their homes, small children crying in their mother's arms. The house fire continued to rage.

Katara was bent over next to the dragon's body, breathing heavily and examining her cuts and bruises.

Then, another rumbling came from the dragon.

Everyone rose to their feet again and stepped back from its body. An odd aurora began emitting from the dragon's body. Katara felt very strange. The aurora seeked her out and entered her exhausted body.

In that moment she was overcome with blurry visions and a cramping throughout her entire body. Images of Alduin flashed in her mind, along with a picture of a wooded area being on fire. But it wasn't just a wooded area, the visions began showing her images of her village in flames, Windhelm in flames, and Skyrim itself a blaze. The aurora from the dragon entered every fiber of her being, making her body feel as if it wasn't hers. She felt it coursing through her veins as it she completely absorbed it. Then as quickly as it happened, it was over. Katara fell on the ground again, crying out in pain.

Teldryn rushed over to her side. "Katara! Are you alright?", he asked, still breathing heavily himself. He glanced at the dragon's massive body lying dead in the middle of Ivarstead.

Katara braced her hands on the ground in an effort to regain her strength and stand up. Teldryn wrapped his arms around hers and helped lift her up. The two just stared at each other for a moment, both breathing heavily, shaking, battered, and bruised. The stunned townsfolk slowly walked towards them, along with the guards.

The bard from the inn stepped forward slowly towards Katara, his voice was shaky and his hands trembled. "So the legends are true...", he stammered, looking at the dragon and back at Katara.

Both Teldryn and Katara looked at him without saying a word.

"...you're the Dragonborn...", the bard finished. The townsfolk's mouths still hung open.

A guard stepped forward as well, "You took the dragon's very soul. I don't believe it..."

Teldryn helped Katara limp towards the the steps of the inn. "Can we get some room, please?" he hollered at the townsfolk who began clearing a path for them.

He sat her down gently on the steps and the innkeeper rushed inside to grab her a damp rag. The other guards and some townsfolk went in search for the dead guard's body that lie in the woods. The innkeeper handed her the rag and Katara began patting her brow with it. Teldryn sat down next to her, silent as could be for a long moment. Finally he spoke up.

"You know, part of me didn't want to believe you.", he said very wearily. Katara slowly turned to face him, grimacing at her headache.

"But it wasn't even the dragon that terrified me, Katara. It was you. Something happened to you after it died. As the guard said...it looked as if you...took its soul...", he was shaking his head at his own words, but couldn't deny that was indeed what he just witnessed.

Katara coughed a bit to clear her throat.

"I saw...things...Tel.", she softly said. Teldryn furrowed his brow in curiosity. "When it's soul entered my body I - I saw visions. Visions of the world on fire. I saw my village, my people in flames.", her voice caught in her throat and she could feel her eyes well up with tears.

Teldryn turned to face forward again, still shaking his head occasionally.

"The damn horse is gone...", he said nonchalantly. Katara looked over at the post where they left the horse and saw that the reigns had snapped, the horse must've broken free in the chaos and ran off.

Just then a voice echoed through the sky. It was the loudest thing she'd ever heard. It was the voice of a man, several men perhaps. It shook the ground slightly as it beamed through the atmosphere. The townsfolk covered their heads and the children began crying again. Both Teldryn and Katara stared into the sky, their eyes wide.

"DOVAAAHKIINNN...", the voices yelled. It quickly subsided as if nothing happened.

The townsfolk fell silent again, some began quietly whispering amongst themselves.

"The Greybeards..."

"That's the first they've said anything from High Hrotgar in thousands of years..."

These were among some of the things whispered by the townsfolk. They all turned their gaze towards Katara, who was still sitting on the steps.

Katara and Teldryn both exchanged a look of concern, fear, and relief.

The innkeeper was kind enough to let Katara and Teldryn rent two rooms free of charge. Most of Ivarstead was having a hard time getting back into a routine that day. They were mostly consoling each other and picking up any debris around town. Katara overheard the guards talking about how they're going to try to move the dragon's body in the morning into the woods so it could decompose away from the town.

Katara was no longer limping and regained her physical strength, although she was mentally exhausted from absorbing the dragon's soul earlier. She had wiped all the dirt and blood from her exposed limbs and sat at the table opposite of Teldryn. He had downed an entire bottle wine by himself and was working on his second. He claimed that a fuzzy head was the only way he'd be able to cope with seeing what happened today. He was feeling it by this point.

"Well, maybe this is a good thing.", he said, holding his bottle to his chest. "I've been saying that I've always wanted to take up hiking, now it looks as though I'll get my wish."

"Going to High Hrothgar is how it should be. It's what I've been after this whole time. You heard them, I've been summoned.", she replied.

"I suppose. It's the thought of hiking an alleged 7,000 steps up the side of the biggest damn snow rock in the country that irritates me juuust a bit.", he said, slight bitterness in his voice.

Katara sighed and tried to sympathize with him. "I can't pass this up, Tel. I believe what I saw in those visions was a world where Alduin reigns. A world where there was no one to stop him, where something wasn't done. Trust me...", she leaned in closer to him to emphasize her seriousness, "you don't ever want to see that."

He noted the sincerety in her voice and sighed, his bottle still clutched in his hands. "I want you to know something, Katara. I'm a seasoned mercenary. I've been to many countries and spent a great deal of time on the roads, in battle, and killing. There's not a lot that phases me.", his tone was now serious as well. "But I gotta say, this stuff is entirely out of my area of expertise. And quite frankly, my dear - that terrifies me.", he finished and took a big swig from the bottle.

Katara nodded sympathetically and looked down for a moment, she almost laughed for second. "You think it's scary? I have no idea why the gods picked me to be the Dragonborn, yet I'm following along with it because for the first time in my life...I have a purpose. And more importantly, I have this burning desire to know that purpose."

Teldryn stared at her and only sighed. "Well, you hired me. I'm at your service until I'm no longer needed. I'm invested in this now with you. I say that not only as your hired help, but as your friend, Katara."

Katara smiled slightly and gave him a nod. "Where would I be without your help? We better get off to bed. That mountain isn't going to hike itself tomorrow.", she gave him a small wink and he laughed, followed shortly by a groan.

They left as soon as the dawn broke. The air was chilly but rapidly getting colder the further up the mountain they treked. Teldryn was visibly shivering and even Katara, who was used to snow her entire life, was shaking a bit. They had bought two bear pelts at the inn before leaving Ivarstead, along with some fruit and milk. They would've opted for wine but the dramatic shift in altitude would've been dangerous combined with alcohol. So instead they bought a jug of milk.

They were halfway there by mid morning. Skyrim seemed the grow larger and smaller at the same time the higher up they went. The landscape widened and they could see more of the country, but the towns grew smaller in size. It was snowing hard and the wind whipped at their cheeks. There were stones lining the steps every so often. They were all written in the language of Dovah.

"So do you think these Greybeards will welcome you with open arms?", Teldryn asked, adjusting his pelt to cover his entire face just shy of his eyes.

"Why wouldn't they? They summoned me. It'd be rude not to go, wouldn't you think?"

"Perhaps. I've just heard these cats are ultra reclusive, maybe even more so than your people."

About 2 miles shy of the very top of the mountain, they came to a huge stone temple. High Hrothgar. The altitude had dropped significantly and Katara felt light headed just a bit. Teldryn complained that he got the occasional bout of nausea. They approached the temple doors.

"All the answers you've been searching for could lie behind these doors.", Teldryn said, steam radiating from his mouth as the cold frosted his brows.

"Let's not keep them waiting then.", Katara replied while pushing open the doors.

Inside was a very peaceful and quiet temple. The only sound was the crackling of small fires and candles that lit the halls and rooms. It was warmer, which pleased Teldryn. The two of them slowly and quietly stepped forward into the open room, both not quite sure what to say or if to say anything.

Just then a man wearing dark gray robes emerged from one of the hallways and made his way down the steps towards Katara. He had a long white beard that was braided at the end, and his robe had a hood that hung slightly over his forehead.

"Ah, Dovahkiin. We've been expecting you.", the old man said very plainly.

Katara remained still.

"My name is Arengir. Welcome to High Hrothgar."

"I heard your summoning, Master Arengir.", Katara replied softly. Teldryn stood slightly behind her, making sure not to interfere.

"Yes, we know who you are, Katara. We could feel your energy the moment you came to Skyrim. I imagine you have many questions and seek many answers.", Arengir said.

She nodded, "Yes, I do."

Arengir motioned for them to follow him as he walked down a long hall. They were met with the sight of three other men, all wearing the same robes, meditating in the center of the room. They all stood up and walked to meet them halfway.

"Dovahkiin, this is Master Bolli, Master Eniarth, and Master Hroldan.", Arengir said. Each of the men bowed and nodded at Katara, to which she did the same back. "Come, join us in the circle and drink in the knowledge of your fate."

The four Greybeards knelt back down in the circle of the room, Katara and Teldryn followed and took their seats on the floor as well.

Katara looked at all four men and thought of all the questions she's had for the past several days.

"I'd like to know first...am I truly the Dragonborn?"

"Oh yes. The gods chose you from the moment you were born, it was no mistake. Only they know why, but that is not up to us to determine. Our job is to teach you the Way of the Voice. What happened down there in Ivarstead with the slain dragon...you indeed did absorb its soul.", Arengir answered.

"When I absorbed the dragon's soul, I had these horrible visions of -"

"Yes.", Bolli chimed in. "Those visions were showing you a glimpse into the hatred and evil that most dragons have for mankind, and the world they strive to see should they have their way under the tyrannical reign of Alduin."

"But that won't happen, Katara.", Arengir added. "Because you're not going to let it happen."

Katara nodded and took a deep breath.

"The ancient legends say that the Dragonborn is supposed to defeat Alduin using Shouts, but I'm not skilled in that art..."

"That's what we're here for.", Eniarth said. "We're here to teach you the Way of the Voice."

"But...how?"

Arengir spoke again. "Any one can be taught how to use a Thu'um given they practice at it each and every day, but only the Dragonborn has the power to learn it simply by absorbing the souls of dragons. Once you absorb the soul, all you must know is the Shout in order to utilize it."

"That dragon that you saw that day at Helgen, that was Alduin.", said Hroldan. "He used one of his Shouts to rain fireballs upon the town."

"Yes, he has a plethora of knowledge regarding Shouts, and he knows how to use them.", said Bolli.

"So, how will you teach me?", Katara asked, scanning the faces of the four Greybeards.

"Would you like to see how it's performed? Follow us out to the courtyard.", Arengir replied, everyone standing up and walking towards the double doors in the back of the temple.

Outside in the courtyard the four men lined up and faced towards an open space. Teldryn leaned over to Katara when they had their backs turned.

"Do you think these old coots have even noticed me?", he asked, whispering as best as he could.

"Yes, elf. We acknowledge you.", Arengir said with his back still turned. Katara couldn't help but giggle while Teldryn rolled his eyes.

Master Arengir brought his hands up to his chest and linked his hands together tightly. Staring at a jug that was lying in the middle of the courtyard, he maintained his composure and took a deep breath in. Then he Shouted.

"Fus Ro Dah!", he yelled. Emitting from his mouth came a fast and very powerful push that sent the jug flying dozens of yards over the courtyard wall, eventually rolling down the side of the mountain. The three other Greybeards unleashed their unrelenting forces following his, all very powerful and loud. Arengir turned back towards Katara.

"Would you like to learn this shout, Dovahkiin?", he asked, holding out his hand as an invitation for her to join them. She nodded and walked over to where they were standing.

"Master Bolli will gift you with the knowledge of your first Shout.", Arengir said. Bolli then stepped back and recited a small, quiet chant. On the ground in front him appeared a word in the snow written in Dovah. The word seemed to glow and Katara felt a strange attraction to it. She felt drawn to the word, like it called out to her.

"Stand by the Word of Power and learn its ancient knowledge.", Bolli instructed. Katara walked over to the glowing word and a feeling similar to that of absorbing the dragon's soul washed over her. Except this time it wasn't nightmarish, it felt powerful yet calming as it entered her body. Her finger tips tingled and her throat quivered for a moment.

"Do you feel the power of the Word coursing through your being, Dovahkiin?", Hroldan asked her.

"Yes, I do.", she simply replied.

"Now, use it.", Arengir told her. "Deep breaths in, Voice out."

Katara stood with her legs shoulder length apart, she brought her hands up to her chest and linked hands like Master Arengir did just moments ago. She closed her eyes and tried to focus.

"Find that power in your being and bring it forth through your throat", Arengir instructed.

Katara stared at the iron gates that led out from the courtyard to a snowy slope. She took a deep breath in and deep breath out. Behind her she could feel the eyes of the Greybeards and Teldryn waiting and watching. Once again she took a deep breath in, focused on the gates, and...

"Fus...RO DAH!"

The force from her Shout shook and rattled the iron gates loudly. Birds flew and scattered from their nests that rested on the snowy rocks. Her throat slightly vibrated as her body was balancing itself back out. She imagined Shouting would hurt much more than it did, but instead she felt powerful.

"Well done, Dovahkiin.", Arengir said.

Katara turned to face everyone. All the Greybeards bowed to her, Teldryn stood smiling.

"Your concentration and accuracy of the Voice is admirable, Katara.", Bolli added.

Katara smiled wide for a moment. "So that's it then? I can defeat Alduin using this Shout?"

The Greybeards exchanged a concerned look. Katara noticed.

"There's someone else you should meet, Dovahkiin. His name is Paarthunax, he's the leader of the Greybeards. He truly is the master of the Way of the Voice. He lives at the very top of the mountain, just a short walk through those doors.", Arengir said, nodding towards the gates that she just rattled.

"But I thought you could teach her this...Thu'um...so we could end all this?", Teldryn spoke up, a bit defensive. "Wasn't that the point of coming here?"

"Indeed.", Arengir said, speaking to both Teldryn and Katara. "We can teach you every Shout...except for one. Only Paarthunax holds that knowledge."

Katara glanced towards the very top of the mountain. "Just up that path, correct?", she asked.

"Yes.", Arengir replied. Katara started to walk towards the path and Teldryn began to follow.

"Perhaps you should stay here, Teldryn. This is a visit meant only for the Dovahkiin.", Hroldan said. Both Katara and Teldryn turned back to look at them, then Teldryn looked at her. Katara nodded at him.

"I'll be fine. Warm yourself for a bit.", she told him.

Reluctantly he nodded and walked back to where the Greybeards stood. The five of them walked back into the temple and Katara opened the iron gates and began her climb to the top.

Just a mile or two further, Katara had reached the very top of High Hrothgar. She didn't see any temples, any castles, not even a building. She became very confused for a moment. There was nothing but some rocks. There was however a small wall, a stone wall. She walked closer to it and noticed that there was a plethora of words written on it, much like the Word of Power she learned from Master Bolli, all written in Dovah. She felt drawn to the wall, but unlike the Word of Power she'd just learned, the words didn't stand out. It almost appeared to be inactive. She stepped closer and ran her hands over the words, feeling the ridges of which they were etched in stone.

Suddenly behind her, coming from the tall rocks, she heard the familiar flapping of wings. Katara unsheathed her sword and looked around frantically. A greenish yellow dragon softly landed in front of her. Her hands trembled and she positioned herself to be battle ready.

The dragon, who had a severed horn and appeared to be older, moved closer to her on his hind legs and wings. Katara knew she was vulnerable with the open space and of course not having Teldryn with her.

The dragon's massive snout stood just a few feet away from her tiny body. Her trembling became more violent and she gripped the sword in her hands tighter.

"Dreh ni faas, Dovahkiin. I am Paarthunax.", the old dragon bellowed from his throat.

Katara was stunned for a moment. Did this dragon just speak to her? And more importantly...why did she understand him? She lowered her weapon.

"You are indeed the Dovahkiin. I feel your soul. Bo - come.", Paarthunax said, once again taking flight and landing on the stone wall. Katara followed.

"This is a Word Wall. They can be found all throughout Skyrim - some in caves, dungeons, and a few even on your island of Solstheim.", Paarthunax purred.

"I was told you were the leader of the Greybeards?", she asked, looking up at him.

"Geh - yes, I am."

"I wasn't expecting a -"

"A Dov - dragon? Yes, I'd imagine that would come as some alarm to you.", he replied plainly.

Paarthunax went on. "Would you believe me if I told you that I was once the right hand to Alduin? Alduin and the dragons ruled all of Skyrim for centuries. As much as it pains me to admit it, I enjoyed it. The human race was ours for the conquering."

Katara stood looking at him with a puzzled look on her face.

"But Alduin grew greedy. He became a tyrant. It led myself and a few other Dovs to question and doubt his reign. That, Dovahkiin, was when we rebeled against the World Eater himself and gifted the humans with the Voice."

"I heard that the ancient Nords used their Thu'ums to knock Alduin from his reign.", Katara said.

"Geh. Combined with the rebellion of even a few Dovs, we sent him into Oblivion. Unfortunately, that was not enough - as you've seen the return of the World Eater with your very eyes."

Katara walked to the edge of the mountain, she peered over the edge. Teldryn was right, you could see all of Skyrim from here. It was absolutely gorgeous. It was almost overwhelming. Katara couldn't drink in enough of it.

"How many people died at your hands...", Katara asked, her back still turned to the dragon.

Paarthunax was silent for a moment. "Thousands, my child."

She nodded slowly. Paarthunax continued on. "And I regret that era...every single day of my existence."

Katara turned to walk towards him. "If Alduin has returned, then why hasn't he already taken control of the world?"

"He cannot do it alone. He's rallying the other dragons, raising them from the depths of Oblivion.", Paarthunax answered.

"Does he know you're here?"

Paarthunax looked around for a moment, as if scanning the skies.

"I imagine if he did, he'd already have seeked me out for some...choice words. But he knows about you, Dovahkiin. Alduin knows the prophecy and he's willing do whatever it takes to prevent his ultimate demise."

Katara turned to face the stone wall again. She sighed, processing all the information.

"I was told that you know the Shout which can defeat Alduin once and for all.", she asked him, staring at his long snout and slow blinking eyes.

"Yes, the Shout is called Dragonrend. It can bring any dragon to the ground, allowing them to be vulnerable and rendered helpless from their flight. Flight, Dovahkiin, is the Dovs greatest advantage. It is our pride."

"But I cannot teach it to you, not yet.", he quickly added.

Katara spun around swiftly. "What? Why not?", she asked angrily.

"Because merely sending Alduin away the first time was a grave mistake. This time he's come back seething with more hatred and thirsty for vengeance. We simply cannot make that mistake again, Dovahkiin. We have to make sure this time he is truly slain. I have a plan, but it won't be easy... "


	6. Six: A Fresh Face

Chapter Six: A Fresh Face

"He wants us to do what?!", Teldryn asked in disbelief as they made their way down from High Hrothgar.

"Odahviing, he's currently the right hand to Alduin. We need to...trap him. Then we need to somehow convince him to denounce his loyalty to Alduin. Once he does that, other dragons will follow in the same footsteps and his armies will fall.", Katara replied, watching her steps very carefully down the snowy slopes.

Teldryn scoffed for a moment and stammered.

"That sounds all good and well but how in OBLIVION are we supposed to trap Odahviing?"

Katara paused for a moment and pointed to Whiterun off in the distance.

"There.", she said. "Dragonsreach is the castle where the Jarl of Whiterun resides. After the Dragon Era the Nords were still fearful of dragon attacks, so they created a trap in the event one ever attacked Whiterun. Dragonsreach is now a castle obviously, but Paarthunax said that the upper porch still has a fully functional trapping mechanism. ", she answered him.

Teldryn crossed his arms as he was shivering from the cold winds, even though they had almost reached the base of the mountain. Katara noticed he hadn't even put back on his helmet since killing the troll on the road days ago.

"So my next question is how does one trap a dragon?", he asked.

"I have to Shout his name. Paarthunax said that a dragon is prideful, and he cannot resist when he is called upon by a challenger. Paarthunax said he'd hear my Shout all throughout Skyrim."

Teldryn stopped in his tracks for a moment, Katara noticed and stopped to turn to him with a puzzled look on her face.

"What?", she asked defensively.

"Did you ever think you'd be here...in this situation weeks ago?", he asked with sincerety in his voice.

She lowered her head for a minute, thousands of images from the recent weeks flashing through her mind, countless self discoveries and her wildest nightmares come to fruition.

"I think a part of me knew, perhaps subconsciously, all these years. I was going through life thinking that mundane was acceptable and satisfying - it wasn't. The day those Imperial ships took me away was the day I came alive. It stirred in me a will to survive by whatever means necessary. Yes... I have much more to learn and there's the chance of me failing" she said, looking away from him for a moment. "But look how far I've come already."

Teldryn nodded his head and faintly smiled, but with sincerety. He tightened the bear pelt around him and pressed on.

Whiterun was only about an hour away, Teldryn and Katara walked down the cobble stone road, getting slightly warmer.

"Well, at least we're getting to go to Whiterun like originally planned.", Teldryn said.

"Have you been?"

"Of course, many times. Little wooden city with beautiful women.", he responded with a laugh and looked off to the side as if recalling a sultry memory.

Katara giggled. She realized that she knew very little about Teldryn, yet he knew so much about her just from what's happened since their first meeting.

"Have you ever courted a woman? Been married?", she asked.

He almost seemed stunned by her question. "No. My line of work doesn't really allow me to settle down, if you get my drift."

"Surely there had to be a time before becoming mercenary?"

"Yes, I was about 10 years younger - your age I think. I was just a young man in my homeland of Morrowind. My family owned a farm, we sold mostly yams to the local Dumner towns and small cities. I would plow the fields and help milk the cattle. But ever since I learned to read I was flipping through the pages of spell tomes and books on the arcane arts. I remember sitting in my little room late at night as a young boy and practicing my fire spells on the candles by my bed. Then as I got a bit older my father gave me a dagger because we started having a problem with ash hoppers getting into the fields. You know what those are?", he asked her. She shook her head. "These repulsive insects that are the size of dogs. They would tear into our crops. So I started fighting them off with my dagger, killing them whenever I could. On my 19th year I traveled to Versamion - the Dumner capital of Morrowind. With a little bit of underground training, I eventually became the strapping brute warrior you see before you.", he puffed his chest out and flexed his muscles jokingly.

"Is fire the only spell you've mastered?", Katara asked, kicking a rock down the road.

"Heavens no.", Teldryn held out his hand palm side up, inside a purple glowing orb started forming. He twitched his hand for a moment and several feet in front of them a humanoid woman dressed in fire materialized. Katara stopped in her tracks.

The figure was a Flame Attronach, they were made completely of fire and had the ability to shoot fireballs, much like Teldryn. The fire woman hovered slightly above the ground, doing flips in the air and following Teldryn around obediently.

"I know a bit of conjuration.", he said, folding his arms and admiring his work of arcane art.

"Wow, that's incredible.", Katara said, staring at the woman following them.

"Indeed. However I've always wanted to go to the College of Winterhold here in Skyrim. They specialize in magicka. I've only ever been to the gates, it looks like such a beautiful college. To be able to learn more about the arcane arts from some of the most skilled mages in Tamriel sounds blissful. Only students are allowed in though. I never got around to it."

"You make it look so easy."

"It takes a lot practice and concentration. Much like what I imagine your Thu'um is like. Even for a Mer, who are born with an advantage of magicka, it takes self discipline."

Katara was listening to him attentively when she overheard the rattling of wheels on the road up ahead of them. Teldryn heard it too. They squinted and saw a caravan rolling up the road.

Teldryn quickly began waving his hands at the Flame Attronach, trying to get it to disappear.

"Damn. Go! Go away!", he waved and batted furiously at the Attronach until it began to vanish out of thin air.

The caravan pulled closer to them and Katara noticed about four or five Khajit aboard. Khajit were a cat-like race from the providence of Elswyer. They stood on two feet and had long slender tails. Their fur was often and striped different browns, blacks, and whites - some mixed. Pointy ears perched on top of their heads and green or yellow cat eyes stared widely at the world around them. They were skilled merchants. Teldryn had once told Katara that they often had no problem buying and selling stolen goods, and even dealt illegal substances like skooma and moon sugar. They traveled the roads of Skyrim with their trading caravans doing business outside of cities and towns, the traveling soldiers in the war brought them more business as of late. They were shady creatures to a degree, but harmless the majority of the time.

They stopped in front of Katara and Teldryn.

"Greetings, travelers. Can I offer you something to ease your travels?", one Khajit riding on the edge of the back of the caravan asked. His voice was raspy and purred a bit.

Teldryn spoke up. "I believe we'll pass on the good stuff for today but may we take a look at what you have otherwise?"

The Khajit grinned, his sharp teeth showing slightly under his lips. "Of course. The finest goods and wares in all of Skyrim - at a fair price.".

He hopped off the back of the caravan, the three other Khajit looked on nonchalantly. He slid out a box from under the bench in the carriage and pulled out a key from his pocket, unlocking the box. "Take a look."

Teldryn and Katara stepped forward to eye his inventory. He had several silver and gold rings, necklaces, jewels and gems, lockpicks, ingredients, flowers, and potions.

"And if that doesn't interest you, then I have more.", he said, pulling a rug off of another box in the carriage. The box had two pairs of gauntlets, an axe, and iron shoes. Katara admired the iron gauntlets and boots, they matched her armor better than the leather ones. She remembered Teldryn saying how she needed new armor soon.

"I'll take the iron gauntlets and boots, please.", she told him, plucking a few septims out of her coin purse.

The Khajit gladly accepted the money and smiled wide, handing her the armor pieces. "The lady knows what she wants.", he turned to stare at Teldryn, looking him up and down. "And for the elf...perhaps some magicka potions?". The Khajit pulled out a blue vile and whisked it around gently, a liquid sound heard splashing around inside.

Teldryn shrugged and reached into his own pockets. "What the hell, why not? I'll take two."

The Khajit stuck his earnings into his shirt pocket. He hopped back on the carriage and covered the rug back over the boxes.

"If you're heading to Whiterun, be wary. The guards have closed the city gates and aren't allowing anyone in or out.", he added as the carriage lurched forward and the began to make their way down the road. "May your roads lead you to warm sands."

The carriage rolled back down the road and Katara and Teldryn glanced worriedly at each other.

They approached the city gates of Whiterun and nothing looked odd or out of place that would warrant a city lock down. Two guards in yellow curicass' were waiting by the gates.

"Halt. Whiterun is closed for now travelers. I'm afraid you'll have to turn back.", one guard said.

"Why is the city closed?", Teldryn asked.

"Our scouts have recently told us that Imperial soldiers may be making camp in the hills just up that ridge. They could be plotting. Can't be too careful.", he replied.

"I'm the Dragonborn. I have information regarding the recent dragon attacks and I - "

The guards exchanged a look of amazement. "You're the one the Greybeards summoned the other day. All of Skyrim heard that!", one exclaimed.

"I'd like to speak with Jarl Balgruf, gentlemen.", Katara asked sternly.

The guards opened the gates and allowed Teldryn and Katara to walk through.

Inside Whiterun was cobble stone streets and elegant wooden houses and businesses. There were multiple vendors scattered off to the side of the streets - meat and vegetables, weaponry, jewelry all being sold. Townsfolk walked around going about their day. Up the stairs was the second tier of the city where the nicer residencies stood. Above that, on the third tier, was Dragonsreach.

"How does it feel to say that aloud?", Teldryn asked her when the guards closed the gates behind them.

Katara smiled at him, "Pretty damn satisfying."

The sun was setting and the vendors and townsfolk would soon settle in for the night.

"What's say we go rent ourselves a room at the Bannered Mare? It's the best little inn Skyrim has in my opinion.", Teldryn suggested. Katara agreed and they made their way to other side of town.

The Bannered Mare was a crowded little two story inn and bar. Off to the left was a room that served the purpose of being the kitchen, to the right was the bar, and in the middle was a fire pit with benches and tables all around. A few people were sitting around it drinking. Soft music playing from the bard.

"Welcome to the Bannered Mare, if you need anything just - ", the innkeeper lost the words in her mouth when she saw them walk through the door. She was a younger Wood Elf with soft yellowish skin and light green eyes, auburn hair rested down to her shoulders.

"Teldryn Sero...I'm surprised you'd show your face in here again.", she spoke to Teldryn with a seething anger in her voice, eyes glared.

"Nirayne, you keep the best inn there is in Skyrim. How could I stay away?", he replied softly, trying to appear charming. Nirayne huffed and spun around to sweep the floor behind her.

He gave Katara a shrug and they walked towards the bar.

"I'll pay you 20 septims more than the regular price if you'd allow me a bottle of your wine?", he asked, his arms resting on the bar as he looked up pleadingly to the woman.

Nirayne held her head up for a moment and sighed in compliance. She set the broom down and went to fetch the wine.

"I hope you choke on it.", she said as she set the bottle down on the bar with a loud thud and quickly turned to go back to her sweeping.

"So your version of the best inn in Skyrim is one where the innkeeper hates you?", Katara asked under her breath.

Teldryn leaned over slightly after he took a sip from the bottle, then he passed it to Katara. "The last time I was here, which was some time ago, Nirayne and I...hit it off. To spare you the juicy details, I pickpocketed her clothes and bedside tables of any coin or valuables while she slept in bed next to me in the morning. I dashed out of there rather quickly still pulling my trousers up. Guess she found out.", he almost giggled. "I was able to get my room and drink fare back though.", he added confidently.

Katara shook her head and attempted to stifle a laugh as she tried to take a sip from the bottle. She glanced over to one of the tables sitting in the corner of the inn. She noticed a muscular Nord man that looked to be her age or slightly older sitting down eating some stew. His armor was very similar to Katara's and she immediately noticed he had the same horned iron helmet as hers. It hung on the back of his chair. He had a short red beard and matching wavy hair that fell to his ears. His eyes were an almond brown.

She didn't even catch herself staring for a moment before she realized his eyes had also landed on her.

The man's smile got a little wider when he also noticed Katara's matching helmet laying on the bar counter. Katara got up and walked over to him.

"It's good iron, isn't it?", the man said as she approached, he knocked on his helmet.

Katara nodded and smiled. "A bit odd looking but they serve their purpose."

"Yes, the purpose of making me look like the head of a mountain goat."

She laughed. "Aye, but a goat with a sharp sword."

"Uh, I haven't seen you around here. Just passing through Whiterun?", he asked, inviting her to sit down across from him. She accepted.

"Yes, just here for business. You're a resident?", she asked.

"I'm Sinmir Gray-Mane, I've lived in Whiterun my entire life. And who are you?"

"You're a Gray-Mane?", she asked, remembering what the carriage driver from earlier in her travels weeks ago had mentioned about the family.

He laughed lightly. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"No, I didn't mean it like that. You'll have to forgive me, I'm not from Skyrim. I just don't know much about the respected citizens or even...the layout of this city.", Katara stammered, realizing still how little she knew about Skyrim and it's cities, and how childish and oblivious that made her look.

"Don't worry about it, please.", he was adamant about making sure she knew she caused no offense to him. "I don't like it when people make a big deal out of my family. We're nothing glamorous, just a group of stubborn people that don't move.", he laughed and that made Katara smile. "But...if you would like, I could be of some assistance teaching you the layout of the city?", he asked, his thumb nervously tapping on the end of the table.

Katara smiled, although she didn't really know why. It was just casual chit chat. Smiling was a reaction.

"If by tomorrow my business hasn't led me elsewhere, I'd love to explore the city a little bit.", she answered. "It's Katara."

Sinmir smiled. "Have a pleasant night, Katara.", he said as he stood up and turned to walk out of the inn.

Katara got up when he left and went back to sit on the barstool next to Teldryn, who had a funny look on his face.

"What?", she asked, taking a sip of wine and looking at him like he was insane.

"What in the world was with the red faced giggling over there?", he asked, laughing lightly but genuinely. She scoffed at him.

"I'm getting to know the locals, Tel. I feel like I haven't had a normal conversation that wasn't about fighting, the prophecy, the war, or dragons in ages. Besides,", she hung her head for a moment and lowered her eyes, slight disappointment in her voice. "we've gone nonstop traveling, every day a new place for a night. I guarantee our travels will take us elsewhere again once we speak with Jarl Balgruf tomorrow morning. So I doubt we'll get to have that tour."

Around 7am the next morning, Katara awoke and headed to Dragonsreach. Teldryn was still asleep, she figured it was fine to meet with the Jarl by herself. She hoped the Jarl was up by this point.

The first thing Katara noticed when stepping into Dragonsreach was the dragon skull that hung over Jarl Balgruf's throne. On either side of throne stood a dark elf woman in a full suit of leather armor, then a balding man dressed in fine robes. Jarl Balgruf sat on the throne.

Katara approached the Jarl, who was a middle aged pale man with very blonde hair. He had a circlet resting on his head that was adorned with a few jewels. He was wearing fine robes and had rings on his fingers.

"My sources tell me the dragon attacks are becoming more frequent across Skyrim. We need to send troops to our smaller towns in the event of a dragon attack.", the Dark Elf woman said, poise but determination in her voice.

"I disagree, my Jarl.", the balding man chimed in. "The Imperial armies in the hills are the most immediate threat to Whiterun."

Jarl Balgruf ran his fingers over his temples. "Please, both of you..."

"If we open the city gates then we'll be vulnerable to the Imperials", the balding man added.

"But if we don't send troops to our immediate watchtowers and towns then we're showing the citizens of the hold that their safety is below ours.", the Dark Elf woman chimed in.

"Stop!", Jarl Balgruf yelled, slamming his fist on the arm of his throne. Both the man and woman fell silent and stood straight by his side. "You both bring up good points, but I wonder if doing nothing is the best case for us right now. Wait, who are you?", he said, noticing Katara standing a few feet from the throne.

The Dark Elf woman drew her sword and stood in front of the Jarl, facing Katara. "How did you get past the guards? Whiterun is closed, no exceptions."

"Jarl Balgruf, I'm the Dragonborn. I have information regarding the dragon attacks.", she stammered, eye to eye with the woman's sword.

Jarl Balgruf sat up straight in his throne. "The Dragonborn? That's why the guards let you in then..."

The Dark Elf woman lowered her weapon and stepped down, resuming her position by his side.

"Yes, my Jarl. I apologize for the intrusion, but I must speak with you at once.", Katara said.

He nodded his head. "Of course, Dragonborn.", he turned towards the woman. "Iraleth, send some of your men to our nearest watchtowers and a detachment caravan to Riverwood at once.", he then turned to the man on his opposite side. "Proventus, tell the men at the front gates absolutely no more visitors in or out of the city, then take inventory of all the shops in Whiterun. Have that to me by the end of the day so I can make sure the shops can still get what they need to stock their shelves despite city traffic being halted."

Iraleth and Proventus both nodded and bowed, then left his side to carry out their tasks. Jarl Balgruf motioned for Katara to come closer.

"I heard the Greybeards summoning days ago. What an honor that is.", he said, envy almost detected in his voice.

"The Greybeards are the reason I'm here. Alduin has returned..."

His eyes widened only for a moment. "I was afraid that beast would be behind this. I believed the stories, I just didn't think to see his return in my lifetime."

Katara nodded. "I know. And the Greybeards have a...favor...they need of you."

He was intrigued. "What would the Greybeards possibly need from me?"

Katara glanced around the throne room. Maids were sweeping the floors, a court wizard was in his study not far away, and a few guards stood by the doors.

"Perhaps there's somewhere we could go to speak uninterrupted?", she asked of him.

"Of course. Follow me to the Great Porch."

The Great Porch in Dragonsreach allowed Katara to see over all of Whiterun. Jarl Balgruf stood over the stone railing for a moment, looking down on his city.

"The Greybeards told me this porch was once a dragon trap?", she asked him.

"That's right. Thousands of years ago."

Katara took a deep breath and tried to be outright with it. "What if I told you that the only way to stop Alduin was to...trap a dragon?"

Jarl Balgruf turned abruptly to look at her, his face scrunched with concern now.

"This is some sort of...joke?", he asked genuinely but also with slight anger.

"I'm afraid not, my Jarl. Alduin's right hand dragon is vulnerable and can be swayed away from his tyranny. I have to be able to...render him flightless, with this trap."

Jarl Balgruf shook his head and almost laughed. "You really don't expect me to trap a damn dragon in my city, with hundreds of lives just below us, do you?"

"I know it sounds outrageous but it truly is the only way. I can handle whatever dragon comes here, leave that to me. I just need you to be okay with - "

"I'm NOT okay with this.", he answered back loudly. "You see those houses down there?", he pointed down into the streets of Whiterun, Katara's gaze followed. "Those businesses, our school, the people - my people. They look to me for safety and guidance. What kind of leader am I if I allow a dragon of Alduin's reigime to directly infiltrate Whiterun?", his voice was sincere and earnest.

Katara wanted to approach his concerns with sympathy but his failure to grasp the severity of the situation (understandably so) irritated her as well.

"If you care about the safety of your citizens and the well being of Skyrim then you'll understand why this has to be done.", she stressed to him.

Jarl Balruf took a deep sigh. He looked down at his city once more, a look of distance on his face for a long moment.

"I'm sorry, Dragonborn.", he replied softly. "You will have to allow me some time to talk this over with Iraleth and Proventus. They're my trusted advisors. I cannot make this decision hastily nor by myself. I hope you're able to understand the position I'm in.", he turned away from the railing and started to walk away, leaving Katara by herself.

It wasn't the answer she wanted but it was all that could be done at this point. She did understand, truly she did. Making someone see and feel what she has is nearly impossible, they can't grasp the severity of it. Jarl Balgruf had hundreds of lives that depended on him, not just in Whiterun but in the entire hold. Asking something so huge from him at a time when this is all very new, coupled with the threat of an Imperial attack, had to be taxing on just one man.

"If I agreed to go along with this plan,", the Jarl added as he stopped walking away and looked back at Katara. "I would need a couple days to build this contraption on my porch. Sure, there's plenty of room. But we need the mechanisms. We haven't needed them for so long...", his face was distant again, as if recalling simpler times. "Until then, the order for no one allowed in or out of the city still stands - even for the Dragonborn.". The Jarl said sternly, turning to walk away again.

Katara exhaled deeply, slightly frustrated. This threw a wrench into things but it wasn't the end. If a day or two was what it took to put a stop to this madness, then so be it.

It was mid morning by this point when Katara arrived back at the Bannered Mare. Teldryn was sitting at a table eating a cut up tomato and some cooked beef. She sat down across from him, stealing a sip of wine from his bottle.

Katara told him the conversation between her and Jarl Bulgruf, along with the conflict and resolution they came to.

"Well, a couple days to rest wouldn't hurt. We've been through a lot the past week or so, a lot of traveling as well.", he reminded her, trying to point out to her the positives.

She had to admit it would be nice to rest. Perhaps she could go to the famous blacksmith Teldryn talked about and finally get her a greatsword.

"Oh, that red haired fellow came in here looking for you earlier this morning.", Teldryn added taking a bite of the tender, pink beef.

Sinmir! She thought to herself. She remembered their arrangement from last night.

"Well, what did he say? Do you know where I can find him?", she asked, sitting straight up in her chair.

Teldryn's eyes widened and he nearly choked on his steak from laughing too abruptly. "Excited, are we?", he asked, still cackling. Katara gave him an unamused look. "He said he'd be at the General Store next door if you happen to come by", he finally dished.

Katara still glared at him but got up and began to walk out the door. She stopped halfway to the door and had the thought that maybe she should change out of her armor. She remembered the belted tunic she had in her knapsack upstairs in her room. There was no use constantly lugging around all that iron just to lounge around the city awaiting Jarl Bulgruf's decision. She rushed upstairs and changed. The belted tunic looked good on Katara. It was nothing fancy, in fact it looked quite stained and wrinkled - perhaps from the oil soaked torches early in her travels. It was a pink dress, similar to that of a house maid, with thin straps over the shoulders. Under it was a white tunic that covered her chest and shoulders. Hanging off the hips of the dress was a light leather belt. Luckily there was a pair of brown boots in the armoire of her room so she didn't have to wear her iron boots. She looked at herself in the small, smudged up mirror of her bedroom. Her white hair was pulled into a loose French braid down her nape. She soaked a rag in the dish of water sitting on her nightstand, washing away any dirt from her face and shoulders. Then she made her way back downstairs and out of the inn.

"I don't know, Sinmir.", Katara heard a man say from behind the counter. "I guess the city being closed plays a big role as to why we don't have any business."

Katara peered in and saw Sinmir polishing a troll skull on a shelf. He immediately recognized her and set the skull down.

"Oh - a customer,", the man exclaimed from behind the counter.

Sinmir walked over to her. "Well, that crazy elf did pass along my message after all."

Katara smiled. "It would appear that my business requires me to stay in Whiterun for a day or so. If your offer still stands for a city tour, then I'd be interested in it.", she said before glancing back at the shopkeeper. "Unless you're busy then I can just - "

"No, not at all. Belethor,", Sinmir hollered back at the shopkeeper. "Would you mind if a take a leave for a bit?"

Belethor sighed before answering. "Fine. The shop is dead anyway. Just don't forget about restocking the shelves tonight."

Sinmir and Katara smiled at each other and he led her out of the General Goods store.

Sinmir and Katara chatted for quite a while about everything under the sun. She opened up to him about being from the Skaal originally, but she held back on telling him about her being the Dragonborn. She wasn't ready to discuss it with everyone just yet. It kept a part of her sane, living life as if it were simple again. Sinmir told her all about his family, the Gray-Manes, and their deep roots in the city. Ysgramor Gray-Mane helped found and build the city, and he was even the Jarl of Whiterun several generations ago. The Gray-Manes were a family of true Nords that revered a traditional way of life and honor. Many Gray-Manes throughout history have fought in the wars that have plagued Skyrim.

"Has this war effected your family?", Katara asked as they made their way around the second tier of the city, which she later learned was called the Cloud District.

"Oh yes. My younger brother is actually out fighting in Ulfric's army right now. I haven't seen him in a couple months.", Sinmir answered. They stopped in front of this huge tree that ran down the middle of the Cloud District.

"It's beautiful.", Katara mentioned as they looked up at its big roots and branches.

"You should see it in the Spring when it's in bloom. Gorgeous pink blossoms make the whole Cloud District smell heavenly.", he nodded, smiling.

Just then another man about their age intentionally bumped into Sinmir as he was walking past. He was a blonde haired man wearing an Imperial uniform. Him and Sinmir glared at each other.

"Telling the travelers how treasonous your family is eh, Sinmir?", the man asked mockingly.

"Knock it off, Jon.", Sinmir replied, irritation in his voice.

Jon scoffed and continued walking away, muttering things under his breath. Sinmir noticed Katara's confused look at their exchange.

"That's Jon Battle-Born of House Battle-Born. Our families don't really see eye to eye, as you can tell.", he explained. "This war has only made things worse."

"He was wearing an Imperial uniform. Isn't this Stormcloak territory?", she asked him.

"Yes and no. The Jarl is trying to remain neutral to both sides in hopes that he won't have to get involved by the time it's over. The city is on lock down because he's scared of both sides, it'd be the same if he believed there to be Stormcloak armies hiding out there."

"So the Battle-Borns side with the Empire. That must make your family Stormcloak sympathizers?", Katara asked, looking up at him.

"My family has openly supported Ulfric, yes. I believe in what Ulfric says, I just don't want to get involved in the war. That's why I work with Belethor at his shop - trying to live a normal life and make a decent living until I can get out of here.", he replied, looking back up at the tree.

Katara was a little shocked to hear him say that. "But your family has lived here for centuries, you want to move away?"

He laughed a little. "Whiterun seems big to travelers but these city walls are all I've known for 25 years.", he gazed up at the mountains above the walls. "I'd love to buy a piece of land up there and build a homestead on it. I could hunt for all my food and sit by the fire each night, enjoying the stars and the silence."

Katara could sense a slight sadness in his voice, a longing to be elsewhere. She understood that feeling, as she experienced it throughout her life in the Skaal village. Suddenly Sinmir turned to face her, his dark brown eyes looking down at her.

"I don't know if I'm being too straightforward but will you accompany me to dinner tonight, Katara?", he asked nervously but outright. "Some friends of mine are having a big banquet and I'd love if you could join me."

Katara broke eye contact for a moment and nervously glanced away. She fiddled with her hands. Social gatherings weren't really her thing. Even in the village she never had people her age to hang out with, aside from the dreadfully boring Nikolas. Lately with all that's been going on with her...socializing wasn't on her agenda.

But she couldn't deny the chemistry she felt with this perfect stranger in front of her. From the moment their eyes met at the Bannered Mare she felt a connection with him. It wasn't a connection that had anything to do with the prophecy or the war or the dragons...it was sweet and innocent. It was genuine. There was no use just lying around the inn all night if there was nothing that could be done about trapping Odahviing at the moment. Would one night be that bad?

"Alright, I'll come with you.", she finally replied.

Sinmir smiled wide. "They're kind of a rough crowd, they call themselves the Companions. They're a group of fighters and huntsmen. But they're also nice people. They're having a big feast with one of their recent kills and it's usually a fun time drinking and cutting up. I'll meet you at their house just over there when the sun sets."

Waiting around the inn until nightfall felt like an eternity. Katara took that time to browse the local vendors of their fruits and vegetables, jewels, and armor. She decided to spend the coin on a gold necklace and wear it to dinner.

Night finally came and she made her way to the Companions household. As promised, Sinmir was waiting out front. He led her into the house.

Inside Katara immediately heard and noticed a dark elf man and a dark haired Nord woman fist fighting the length of the dining hall. A small crowd of people in various animal skin and leather armors stood around them cheering and yelling, some holding mead and wine in their hands.

"Come on Athis, give it up!", the woman hollered, her fists flying and landing one on the dark elf's jaw. He doubled back for a split moment and swiftly landed a right blow her head.

"Oh no, not this time, Ria!", he yelled at her.

Sinmir seemed unphased by all this. Him and Katara sat at two chairs lining the dining table at watched the fight ensue.

The two fighters threw hard fists at each other, yelling while the others cheered them on. Both tiring out, the Nord woman sent her fist flying into the Dark Elf's cheek, knocking him to the ground. The small group cheered and handed Ria a bottle of mead.

Athis was tenderly rubbing his cheek while on the ground. Ria looked down at him and held her hand out to him.

"You almost had me again for a moment there, Athis.", she said laughing while she helped him to his feet.

"Alright, you've ruined my winning streak fair and square.", he replied laughing. Ria handed him a beer and the two clanked their bottles together.

"Ah, Sinmir!", a dark haired man yelled out when turning around to see the two sitting behind them at the table. The man was wearing a suit of armor that was made out of a bear pelt and steel. His hair was dark brown, almost black. It hung shoulder length. His eyes were so gray they were almost white, and there was black warpaint that was inked over his eyes and entire eyesocket.

"Vilkas, this is my friend, Katara. She's passing through the city and I thought I'd show her around.", Sinmir said to the man.

Vilkas grabbed a bottle of mead and handed it to Sinmir. "Wine or mead, m'lady?", he asked her.

"Wine, please.". Before she could even say it Vilkas had placed a bottle in front of her.

"Say, you look like you could be a warrior.", Vilkas told Katara.

"I have minor combat experience.", she said to him, taking a big sip of her wine.

"All the more reason to join the Companions!", he said, raising his tankard to cheers to Katara.

"You'll have to excuse Vilkas, he thinks everyone should be a Companion. He's been trying to get me to join forever now.", Sinmir leaned over and said.

Vilkas laughed. "It's because you'd fit in here, friend. You've got it in you."

Sinmir glanced around the room. "Vilkas, you're drunk. I'm far from a warrior."

Vilkas laughed even harder at this, his tankard splashing around. "Not yet, but we can make you one.", he walked away to join the others.

Katara turned to Sinmir. "Why do they want you to be a Companion?"

Sinmir shrugged. "I'm not quite sure. I've just been friends with these people since I was a young lad. But they know I'm not a fighter, just a mediocre hunter. They just like having me around I suppose."

Katara nodded and took a bite out of a roll that was on her plate. Sinmir munched on his cooked venison.

"So you never told me what business you have here in Whiterun.", he asked.

"Uh - I'm a bounty hunter. My current client is running a little behind here in Whiterun so I'm just biding my time.", she lied.

Sinmir nodded and almost seemed a little surprised. "You're not the type I'd think to do that line of work."

Katara looked at him half joking half serious. "What? Because I'm a woman?"

"No, because you're not rugged and coarse like a bounty hunter.", he answered very quickly, looking at her genuinely. "You're very kind and beautiful.", he added, his cheeks flushing a faint color of red. Katara also blushed.

"Listen, why don't we finish eating and then I'll show you my favorite spot in the entire city? It looks best on a clear night like this.", he asked her. She nodded and smiled while enjoying her dinner. The two continued to eat and watched the Companions joke, fight, and drink together.

Behind the house of the Companions was a big hill with a cobble stone road lining it. Sinmir led Katara up the road to the top. There was an entire blacksmith's forge up there. A smelter, a workbench, an anvil, a grindstone, and the forge. The dim light from the low burning embers in the forge provided a little bit of warmth. Standing on the hill, Katara could look up and have a crystal clear view of the night sky, stars shining brightly and the universe a royal blue and black mix. It was peaceful up here.

"This is my grandfather's forge, Erlund Gray-Mane.", Sinmir said, running his fingers lightly over the anvil. "Most call him the best blacksmith in Skyrim. I guess they'd be correct. People come from all over to buy his steel."

"It's funny that you mention that because the elf I'm traveling with told me about a blacksmith here in Whiterun who was supposedly very skilled and respected. I wanted to buy a greatsword from him.", Katara mentioned, eyeing the forge.

"Why buy one when you can forge your own?", Sinmir asked. He took a metal rod and stuck it in the glowing forge, turning the embers and the melting steel. "Let me make one for you. My grandfather has taught me a thing or two, you know.", he said, cracking his knuckles and flexing his muscles jokingly.

Katara watched as Sinmir would strategically move from the melting forge to the mold for the greatsword, carefully pouring the molten steel into the mold. They chatted the whole time he worked. When the steel had settled, he picked it up by its handle and stuck it in a bucket of cold water, steam from the sword radiating from it as it was being cooled down. Then he took it to the grindstone and sharpened it up, dulling any blemishes that he found along the way. Finally he took a damp rag and blotted the greatsword of any steel shavings, making the weapon shine under the moonlight.

Katara was genuinely impressed with how sharp and sleek it looked. "This is wonderful, thank you so much, Sinmir."

Sinmir smiled wide and handed her the sword. "Do you know how to use it?"

Katara shrugged, a little embarrassed. "Not really, unfortunately. I've only ever dealt with one handed weaponry. But I can learn quickly I'm sure."

Sinmir stepped forward and stood right in front of Katara, the only thing separating them was the sword. "I'll give you your first piece of advice then.", he said. He gently grabbed one of her hands and placed it on the handle of the greatsword, then he grabbed the other one and placed it just an inch or so higher than the other. "With a greatsword you want to make sure you can choke up on it easily when in combat. Do you feel the weight of the steel? You want to be able to balance that weight between your hands or else you'll topple right over.", he finished, lightly laughing.

Katara nodded, however it was hard for her to focus on his words when all she could feel was his hands on hers. They were calloused and worn, but gentle and big wrapped around hers. Sinmir glanced away for a moment and she felt him brushing her hand with his thumb, feeling her soft skin. Katara looked up at his brown eyes and he stared back down into hers. Her heart began to race and she felt her stomach getting fluttery, this was a feeling she hadn't experienced before. Sinmir inched his face closer to hers, she could smell the embers from the forge on his beard.

Just then they heard footsteps stomping up the hill. Sinmir and Katara broke away from each other quickly and he laid the sword down on the table. Two guards approached them.

"You there, we've been looking for you.", one of them said, nodding to Katara. "Jarl Balgruf has requested council with you right away."

Katara turned to Sinmir, who had his head hung low for a moment but gave her a small smile. "Go on. You must'n ignore the Jarl's summoning."

Katara returned an apologetic smile and turned to walk away with the guards.


	7. Seven: A Twist of Loyalty

Chapter Seven: A Twist of Loyalty

Katara stepped through the doors of Dragonsreach and saw Jarl Balgruf sitting on his throne, a piece of paper in his hand. On his left side stood Iraleth, and on his right stood Proventus. They remained silent and watched as Katara approached them.

"Dragonborn, sorry to call upon you at such a late hour. I've been terribly busy today.", the Jarl said to her.

"Its quite alright. I assume this is in regards to our arrangement?", she asked him.

He sighed and hung his head for a moment. "Yes and no...", he unfolded the letter that laid in his lap. "A courier delivered this to us this morning, an Imperial courier. The Empire wants me to make a decision regarding this war - they want me to pick a side.", his voice was weary and troubled.

"General Tullius himself is on the way here and is expected to arrive in Whiterun by mid morning.", Proventus added. "He wishes to receive the Jarl's answer in person."

Katara scanned their faces. "So what does this mean for me?"

Jarl Balgruf stood up from his throne and stepped forward to Katara. "It means that I cannot follow through with your plan, Dragonborn. This war is the immediate threat to us and there's no telling what either side may do next."

Katara was stunned for a moment. She tried to keep her composure. "I understand, Jarl. May I ask - who are you going to side with?"

Jarl Balgruf turned to Iraleth and Proventus standing behind him. "We've decided that siding with the Empire is the wiser thing to do. I like Ulfric, I always have. But he's a rebel in the eyes of the General, and the Empire will be knocking down our doors if we side with rebel forces.", he answered. "I'm sorry to have called you here just to tell you news that you didn't want to hear. I hope you understand, Dragonborn. You're free to leave the city after General Tullius' visit tomorrow if you'd like."

Katara still stood there looking calm and collected, although inside a range of emotions was swimming through her mind. The Jarl lightly bowed at her and began to walk towards his sleeping chambers.

She glanced down at the ground, darting her eyes back and forth trying to think quick on her feet. "What if I could get the Imperials and the Stormcloaks to agree to a temporary truce?", she quickly asked him. He stopped in his tracks and turned towards her.

"My dear, that time has long since passed. Getting General Tullius and Ulfric Stormcloak to sit down and come to a peaceful truce is a fruitless endeavor.", he said softly.

"I know it won't end the war, but it may cease things for a while until this dragon threat is taken care of.", Katara noted.

"Aye, but they won't entertain this notion just for you."

Katara thought for a moment. "Perhaps not. But I bet they would if it was hosted by the Greybeards..."

Jarl Balgruf's eyes widened and he glanced around for a moment. "The Greybeards have never meddled in the politics of Skyrim. I don't see why they would now. But...if the Greybeards can get Ulfric and General Tullius to agree to this truce, I'll go along with your plan. You have my word, Dragonborn.", he didn't sound so sure about it but he did promise, and that meant something to Katara. Nords were true to their word and their honor. The Jarl turned back around and retired to his quarters for the night.

Proventus and Iraleth went their own ways as well. Katara headed for the doors leaving Dragonsreach. She rushed all the way back to the Bannered Mare with only one thought running through her mind: what did I just get myself into?

Katara pushed the doors to Teldryn room wide open and ran straight to his bed.

"Tel, wake up!", she shook his shoulders until he finally came to, a very confused look on his face.

"What is it, woman? What!"

"I just spoke to the Jarl again. He doesn't want to go through with our plan because he's going to publicly side with the Empire tomorrow morning unless the Greybeards convince - I can convince the Greybeards - to host a peace council and - ".

"Whoa, slow down. Start over.", Teldryn sat up in his bed and lit the candle on his bedside with an ember he formed in his palm.

Katara took a deep breath and explained what took place in Dragonsreach. Teldryn knelt over in his lap and placed his head in his hands.

"Why would you make a proposal like that, Katara? The Greybeards would never host a peace council with the very people who push for war.", he reminded her.

"Well we have to try at least. The worst the Greybeards can say is no, and in that case we'll just go about this without trapping Odahviing. We've been through worse.", Katara replied. "But there's something else, Tel. General Tullius is coming here tomorrow, he was at Helgen when I was headed for the chopping block. I'm still a draft dodger. If he sees me, despite my Dragonborn status, I'm afraid he'll try to arrest me again."

Teldryn rubbed the side of his face and sighed. "If we leave right now then we can escape over the back wall. Other than that I suggest we just stay out of the General's way until he leaves tomorrow, then we high tail it out of here."

He was right. The smart thing to do was get some rest tonight and be prepared to leave for High Hrothgar after General Tullius's visit. The trip was short but strenuous and they needed all the rest they could get.

Teldryn looked Katara up and down suspiciously. "Have you been out all this time?", he asked accusatory.

"I was on a date". There was no use in sugarcoating what it was. "And it was going great until Balgruf's men found us and told me the Jarl needed me."

Teldryn raised his eyebrows. "Is it wise to be emotionally invested in someone with your...line of work?"

She looked down and noticed a wine bottle laying on the floor next to one of the table legs. She picked it up and was able to scrounge one or two sips out of it.

"I suppose it's not.", she finally answered.

Mid morning the next day came and the town was in full swing with the impending arrival of General Tullius. Street vendors were organizing their buckets and shelves, shopkeepers were sweeping cobwebs from their windows, and townsfolk were chatting and whispering amongst themselves.

Katara had gotten up early and went in search for Sinmir. The conversations she heard on the street were a mix of excitement and griping. Some of the townsfolk were happy about the Imperial arrival, others were angry. Whiterun was split pretty evenly regarding who sided with who in this war.

Katara checked Belethor's General Goods store but no sign of Sinmir. She tried to remember which house he pointed to yesterday when telling her which one was House Gray-Mane. She made her way up the stairs into the Cloud District and found the familiar house with a horse carved into the wood on the side of the door, a representation she figured. She knocked on the door and several moments later a gray haired woman about her age answered.

"Yes, what do you want?", she asked.

"I'm looking for Sinmir. Is he around? Are you...his sister?", Katara asked quietly.

"Yes, I'm his sister, Ophelia. Are you the one he's been talking about all last night?", she asked, raising her eyebrow.

Katara's face flushed for a moment. The thought of someone talking about her in a flattering manner made her stomach flutter.

"Is he around by chance? I'm leaving town soon and I'd really like to speak with him."

"He snuck out and went hunting early this morning just outside of the city. He jumped that back wall right there.", Ophelia said motioning to the wall off to the side of the Cloud District. "You may be able to catch him not far from the walls."

Katara thanked Ophelia and closed the door. She took a good look at her surroundings and carefully made her way to the side of the wall. She peered over it for a moment, judging the height. It was about a 7ft drop. She took a deep breath, checked her surroundings one more time, and lifted one leg over the wall, then swung the other leg around. Mentally counting to 3, she slid off the wall and landed on the ground with a hard "oof!"

She got up and brushed herself off, her ankle rolled the wrong way and she winced when she put weight on it. Katara knelt down and nursed it for a moment, rubbing it and cleaning it of dirt. She was able to get up and slowly stand on it, although it was tender and swollen.

Katara glanced all around her. There were flat plains surrounding her and the city of Whiterun, with mountains off in the distance. The sun had not yet reached its peak in the sky, giving the grassy plains a yellow and orange tint. She heard birds chirping overhead. It was a gorgeous sight.

She scanned the fields until her eyes landed on a man who was tying twine around a limp rabbit a few several yards away. She recognized him as Sinmir and ran towards him.

A few feet shy of him he heard her footsteps and turned, his eyes glaring through the sunlight until he recognized her figure.

"Katara? What are you doing out here?", he hollered, seeming surprised.

She stopped in front of him, breathing a little harder from her sprinting. "I was trying to find you. General Tullius and his men are coming to Whiterun shortly."

Sinmir looked confused for a moment. "I heard whispers from my father last night but didn't know if it was true. How did you know he was coming?"

Katara's voice caught in her throat. "The Jarl confided in me last night."

Sinmir's confusion grew, she could tell it on his face. "But why would the Jarl tell a bounty hunter that information?"

Katara hung her head low for a moment and sighed. There was no point in lying to him anymore, especially because she couldn't deny that she had started to like him. "Sinmir, I haven't been completely honest with you about who I am and...why I'm here."

Sinmir stepped back for a moment, a look of concern and almost anger washed over him.

"What are you talking about, Katara?"

She shook her head and looked away for a moment. "Please don't take off running when I say this but... I'm the Dragonborn."

Sinmir's face twisted into scowl as if he thought she was playing a prank on him. His face unhardened when he realized she was as serious as she could be.

"You're serious, aren't you? You're the one the Greybeards summoned the other day?", he asked in disbelief.

Katara nodded and picked up his hand, intertwining her fingers with his. "Walk with me and I'll explain more."

Sinmir and Katara walked around the fields and plains for a few moments and she explained everything to him, including why she was talking to the Jarl last night and what her plan was for Odahviing. Sinmir listened and occasionally asked questions, to which Katara replied with honest answers. After a while they decided to sit down on a huge stone. Sinmir looked all around, as if trying to find words.

"I understand why you didn't tell me all this at first. I can't imagine what you're going through and what you're feeling. It must be very daunting and exciting all at the same time. But I want you to know that I would've liked you if you were the Dragonborn or just some common farmer.", he finally said, sincerity in his voice.

Katara looked over at him, her hand still wrapped in his. "This is scary to me, you know..."

"I know, being Dragonborn means you have the weight of Skyrim on your shoulders."

"Not just that but, this.", she said, motioning to their hands clasped tightly together.

Sinmir looked at her with a genuine expression and mustered up a smile. "I don't bite, Katara. No need to be frightened by me."

She laughed, and it felt good to laugh. Sinmir began rubbing her hand with his thumb just as he did last night. It was both comforting and heart racing.

"You know this means that I have to leave today for High Hrothgar...", she softly said.

He nodded his head wearily. "Yes, I know.", his voice was low as if plagued by sadness. "But you're coming back, right?"

Katara looked up and stared into his eyes. Sinmir stared back, his deep brown eyes staring into her soul. Without saying another word, he lifted his hand to her chin and nudged her face up to meet his. Their lips met, electricity jolting through every vein in her body. His lips were full and warm and soft. His hand then reached up to run his fingers through her white hair, tucking a few strands behind her ear, never breaking their kiss before it was time to do so.

Their mouths separated from each other but they still held their faces close to one another, both grinning and red raced.

"I've wanted to do that from the moment I saw you.", Sinmir finally said.

She smiled and cupped his face with her hand, lightly brushing his face with her thumb and feeling where the stubble on his face met his dark red beard. "I know.", was all she could say.

Down the cobble stone road the Imperial caravan rolled along. General Tullius led the group of soldiers on his horseback, behind him was the female Legate that was with him at Helgen the day Alduin attacked. Sinmir and Katara watched as he rolled closer to the city gates, roughly fifteen Imperial soldiers at his back.

"We oughtta head back. I'm sure you have to pack and I have to go bury my head in the sand while our Jarl swears himself to the Empire.", Sinmir said, bitterness in his voice.

They helped each other sneak back over the wall. The city was bustling with people making room for General Tullius and his brigade. Over on the steps of Dragonsreach, Jarl Balgruf stood with Proventus and Iraleth at his side. Proventus had a book in his hands. A few guards were around him and lining the streets.

Katara and Sinmir rushed to the Bannered Mare to get Teldryn, who was walking out as they were walking in.

"Ah, there you are. I was just about to watch this shit show.", Teldryn drawled, motioning towards General Tullius who was making his way up through the Cloud District.

"If you stay close with us then you won't be seen, Katara. Come on.", Sinmir said as he led them up the same steps.

The whole town followed General Tullius and his men through the city, right up to the main stairway where Balgruf stood, emotionless.

The two men firmly shook hands. "Jarl Balgruf, thank you for allowing me a visit to your city.", Tullius said before looking over at the crowd of people and speaking loudly so everyone can hear. "Citizens of Whiterun, thank you for a warm welcome."

General Tullius was a short man, Katara guessed just an inch or two taller than her. He had speckled gray hair, a sign of his age and experience with war matters. His skin was tan, just like Katara's. It was their shared Imperial blood. He was wearing the best Imperial Legion armor there was, accentuating his high ranks. His soldiers stood emotionless beside him.

Some townsfolk clapped at the General's words, others stood silent with scowls on their faces. House Battle-Born stood at the edge of the steps, all wearing Imperial colors, all looking proud.

"General, there was no need to come all the way out here. You've gone through too much trouble.", Jarl Balgruf said.

General Tullius laughed lightly. "It's no trouble at all. We must'n be shy with one another if we're forming this allegiance."

Jarl Balgruf only nodded, he appeared somber and distant. All eyes of the city watching him and the General.

"I'd first off like to say that I'm sorry to you fine people. I'm sorry that this senseless war has landed on your front door step because of a murderous traitor like Ulfric.", Tullius spoke to the crowd. A few people cheered at his words. "But you've got a fine Jarl here who rules with a level head.", the General firmly placed his hand on Balgruf's shoulder, as if trying to emphasize that the two were friends, however the Jarl had the most unpleasant look on his face. "And he's agreed to make the right choice, for the right side, for you fine people."

Teldryn's voice was low and quiet in the crowd as he whispered to Sinmir and Katara. "Damn faithless Imperial. Man is as fake as the day is long."

Finally Jarl Balgruf stepped forward and addressed his citizens, who waited on his words with baited breath.

"Yes, it is true. I have made the decision to side with the right party. For the side that has always fought for the good of its people, for the side that honors tradition and integrity, for the side that stands for all that we hold honest and true about our land and our way of life.", he went on.

General Tullius stood beside him grinning from ear to ear, nodding at his words.

Jarl Balgruf looked over the sea of faces of his citizens. He looked back at Proventus and Iraleth, who stood behind him with calm and collected faces, the way true advisors to the throne should be. He turned back towards the crowd and took a deep breath.

"That's why I'm siding with Skyrim and her people - that's why I'm siding with the Stormcloaks."

The crowd erupted into a mix of gasps, yells, boos, and cheers. The General's face went still as stone, his eyes wide. His soldiers shifted uncomfortably, some reaching for their weapons but not a one daring to draw it unless a command was given to do so.

Jarl Balgruf took advantage of the General's stunned silence to further address his decision.

"The Empire was once thriving, it was something to be proud of. It's not that way now, and it hasn't been for a very long time. Once you outlaw worship among us, you take away a very big part of what it means to be a true Nord. You take away a part of our life. You no longer fight for honor, tradition, and duty - but instead for money, greed, and power. I will never fight beside you while you destroy my home and my people.", the Jarl finished, there was a firey passion in his voice as he stared down General Tullius, who was stammering to get his words out. His face was now as red as his armor.

"Traitor to the Empire!", the General hollered, anger rising in his voice.

"Actually, the Jarl has not commited any act of treason. Skyrim law states that," Proventus spoke up while opening his big book and flipping through the pages. "any Jarl has the right to side with whomever they choose in any war occurring on Skyrim soil, so long as both military platforms are Skyrim bred themselves."

"The - the Legion has been the ruling Empire in Skyrim for decades...", Tullius stammered.

"Yes, but the Imperial Empire is and always has been based out of Cyrodil...not Skyrim. The Stormcloak Legion are natives born and bred.", Proventus added, closing his book with a quick snap.

General Tullius was about to blurt something out once more but Proventus' words had sunk in. Jarl Balgruf stepped closer to him, a sly smile on his face.

"I suggest you get out of my city soon, General. You're in Stormcloak territory.", he said.

Legate Rikke, the female right hand to the General, unsheathed her sword in a fit of anger. Iraleth gave a small hand sign and just as quick she drew her sword and all the Whiterun guards behind her followed suit.

"I would strongly advise that you put your weapon away, Legate.", Iraleth said, a fleet of Whiterun guards behind her and ready for her any command.

General Tullius nodded at Legate Rikke and she reluctantly placed the sword back by her hip. Jarl Balgruf was still smiling, the townsfolk waited watching the next move, some whispering and others talking loudly.

"You don't need me to tell you how bad of a decision this was, Balgruf.", the General told him, eye to eye with the Jarl. "I'm sure you'll figure it out when your city is in ruins and your head is on the chopping block."

General Tullius gave the order to move out at once. He stomped down the stairs of Dragonsreach, his soldiers and Legate Rikke following closely behind. Townsfolked shuffled aside quickly to allow them to pass and walk out the front gates of Whiterun.

Back by the stairwell yelling and slamming could be heard. The three of them turned to look and found the patriarchs of both House Gray-Mane and House Battle-Born arguing in the streets, their families shouting back at each other.

"Father!", Sinmir cried out as he took off running towards the scuffle. Katara and Teldryn followed.

"I should've suspected the Jarl had a rebel sympathizer like you colluding with him!", Lokir Battle-Born cried out, a man with brown hair and wearing a fine green nobles robe.

"I have a feeling the General was pushed to come to Whiterun by some inside source. I have half a mind to believe that's you, Lokir!", Ranmir Gray-Mane yelled back, taking a few swings at Lokir's face.

"Stop it, both of you foolish men!", Olva Battle-Born hollered out at them.

Jon ran to grab his father and Sinmir held back his own father. The two old men were breathing heavily and furious.

"Father, not in front of Braith.", Jon whispered to his father. Braith was the youngest girl, about age 11, of House Battle-Born. She stood looking on hiding off to the side with her mother.

Lokir let out a heavy sigh. "It saddens me that my daughter will grow up in a world full of treasonous snakes.". He stood up and spat on the ground in front of Ranmir.

Ranmir Gray-Mane jerked forward a bit but Sinmir held him back until the Battle-Borns had walked away.

Sinmir let go of his father and Ranmir brushed himself off before angrily stomping away back to his house.

"Bastards.", he muttered under his breath.

Sinmir rolled his eyes and turned towards Katara and Teldryn who were watching with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry, that's embarrassing. Their fighting has always been bad but it's getting worse with this damn war.", he said apologetically. "Would you two care for a drink on my coin?"

Katara and Teldryn looked at each other. It was wise of them to sit down and discuss some things that have changed with the plan given the events that just took place. They both accepted his invitation and set off for the Bannered Mare.

"So are you still going to High Hrothgar?", Sinmir asked, setting a bottle of wine and two tankards in front of Katara and Teldryn. Teldryn filled their mugs.

Katara shrugged lightly. "I feel like the Jarl just further complicated things back there.", she mentioned. "Tensions are even deeper between the Stormcloaks and the Legion now."

Teldryn nodded his head. "Indeed. But the balls on that man to pull a stunt like that...", he said laughing and taking a sip of his wine.

Sinmir laughed as well, however Katara did not. She sat there tapping her foot, trying to conjure up her next move.

"There's no way Ulfric and General Tullius will sit down and convene now.", she said, taking a big sip from her tankard. "And we can forget about the Greybeards having any desire to be involved."

Teldryn looked away for a moment then looked back up, his brow furrowed as if thinking. "If the General and Ulfric won't cease then there's only one person who may be the last saving grace..."

Katara and Sinmir looked at him with curious faces.

"High Queen Elisif...High King Torygg's widow."

Sinmir sat up in his seat and set his bottle of mead down. "Of course! She's ultimately the one who commands the Imperial Legion in Skyrim. General Tullius has to answer to her."

Katara sat her tankard down abruptly and held her hands out. "Hold on, you think that a draft dodger like me should go to Solitude, the Imperial city of Skyrim, and plead with the High Queen to cease the war temporarily when they just lost Whiterun as a major ally?"

Teldryn looked at her genuinely. "It may be the only way, Katara."

Katara sighed heavily and groaned. If that's what it took then she couldn't ignore the call to duty.

"Fine, but if we're going to do this then I want it done right. I don't want to end up bound and gagged and headed for the chopping block again.", she said sternly.

"Go on.", Teldryn replied.

"I want to send her a letter, a formal letter, that the Dragonborn requests council with her at once.", she added.

Teldryn's eyes widened. "My, aren't we important.", he laughed lightly.

"I'm not going there as a criminal, I'm going there as a force to be reckoned with.", she said determinedly.

Teldryn gave a big grin. "Then its settled. I'll begin writing the letter and send it off at once.". He got up and went in search of a roll of paper and a quill.

Sinmir sat there in silence for a moment, looking around, he finally turned towards Katara. "Take me with you."

Katara was almost stunned at his words. "Sinmir...its around a three day journey, and your family...your home..."

"I can be of some aid to the both of you along the way. I can hunt and my family's name carries weight here in Skyrim. Having me along could prove beneficial. Besides...I can't sit behind these walls any longer.", he replied.

Katara sat back and thought for a moment. Having an extra sword around wouldn't be a bad thing, and it may look good to approach the High Queen with a respected name at her side. Plus...the thought of having Sinmir around made her feel giddy.

At that moment Teldryn returned to the table with some paper and a quill and began feverishly writing.

Katara turned towards him. "Sinmir wants to join us, Teldryn. What say you?"

Teldryn's head jerked up and he stopped writing. "I don't need to babysit a Gray-Mane.", he shook his head and went back to writing.

"I can hold my own, Teldryn. I have the coin to get us into inns, for weaponry, for horses...", Sinmir pleaded him.

Teldryn stopped writing again sat back for a moment, a look of thoughtfulness on his face.

"It's a dangerous journey to Solitude. The Reach is full of sabre tooth tigers and Forsworn.", he replied.

"What's the Forsworn?", Katara asked.

Teldryn looked at her. "A ruthless gang of bandits. They have many camps exclusively in the Reach. They're skilled killers and mages and even a couple of them at once can be deadly."

Sinmir raised his bottle of mead to Teldryn. "All the more reason to need a third blade."

Teldryn stared at him for a long moment before sighing and grabbing his tankard. "Aye.", he said, clanking his mug with Sinmir's bottle.

*Solitude, One Day Later

Morndas, 8:30am*

Another restless night tossing and turning on the green satin sheets. It had been a couple months since the incident took place but High Queen Elisif the Fair still could not shake the nightmares. Almost every night it was the same thing - Torygg being ripped to pieces by the overwhelming power of Ulfric Stormcloak's Thu'um. Torygg was young like Elisif, no older than his twenty eighth year, and new to being High King but he held tradition and honor close to his chest. He was loved by almost every Jarl throughout Skyrim during the beginning of his reign. He was advised by his cabinet members not to outlaw the worship of Talos, but he listened to the Empire instead. Elisif never mentioned it to him that it was a bad idea, she stood by her husband like the subservient wife she was. Perhaps if she had then Torygg may still be waking up next to her in bed each morning. Their marriage had been arranged by their Houses when they were teenagers, but they found themselves to actually be lucky enough to fall in love with each other. The two of them had begun talks of having children to heir the throne just as Torygg was killed. Even if Elisif disagreed with his decision to outlaw Talos worship, it surely didn't warrant his untimely death. She was a true Nord herself, but even she could live without open worship of the Nordic demigod. Now the only thing she had left was her late husband's execution creeping into her thoughts late at night.

She didn't know what was more terrifying - knowing she'd live out the rest of her life mourning Torygg or taking over the position of High Queen in the midst of a Civil War. Then there were the dragons everyone has been talking about. She hadn't actually seen one for herself but General Tullius told her plenty about the events that took place the day he was at Helgen. She considered him a trusted and respected man, so she believed him when he reveled in how horrific that day was. One thing her and the General shared - a deep hatred for Ulfric Stormcloak.

Elisif sat up from her bed and placed her small pale feet on the stone ground. The sun was shining through the windows on either side of her bed, it's rays illuminated small flecks of dust floating about carelessly. She walked to her dresser and pulled out a neatly hung coral colored fine dress. The fancy robes had white fur draped around the neck and gold tassels and twine hung off the waist. Elisif slipped out of her nighties and into the fine robes. Next was her tall leather boots, which she strapped tightly over her feet and ankles. They were made from some of the finest leather in the Reach.

She walked to her bedside and picked up the gold crown. It was adorned in various red and blue jewels and the band was a shiny gold. Elisif looked it over and sighed deeply, placing it carefully on her head. It rested about 2 inches from her brow line and shimmered over her dark blonde hair.

Everyone bowed as Elisif emerged into the Throne Room of the Kings Keep. Her steward, knight, Lords and Ladies, and court wizard all standing around the throne or at nearby chairs and tables.

"The nightmares keep coming back, Annette.", Elisif said to her court wizard wearily as she gracefully sat down in the throne.

"I will keep trying to tweak my nightmare potions, My Queen. I'm sorry.", Annette answered back unsurely.

Elisif nodded weakly. Falk Firebeard, her steward stepped forward.

"Good morning, My Queen. Rough night I'd wager?", he asked sympathetically, handing her a silver goblet of wine. She gladly accepted it and took a small sip from it.

"Isn't it every night, Falk?", she asked exhaustedly. "Although last night my routine nightmares were accompanied by new fears left in the wake of Jarl Balgruf's treachery."

Falk and the knight standing off to the side, Fenrar, exchanged an understanding look. Fenrar stepped forward.

"Losing Whiterun was a blow, My Queen. But we are not out of this yet. Markarth and Falkreath have still faithfully pledged and upheld their alliance with the Empire.", Fenrar reassured her, holding his shiny steel helmet in his hands. "That still gives us control over the entire western and northwestern region of Skyrim, plus Imperial camps scattered throughout every hold."

Elisif nodded. "Good. I want you speaking with General Tullius frequently and I'd like to sit in on some of those briefings myself to be ready for our next move.", she said.

Fenrar nodded and bowed before stepping back to his position. "Of course, My Queen."

Elisif took another sip from her goblet, stirring it around lightly in her hand. "The two of you have always done well in serving my late husband.", she spoke to Falk and Fenrar. "All of you have always done well. I took for granted the council and work you put in when Torygg was...here.", she finished, swallowing hard trying to stifle her tears from forming.

Her aids lightly bowed and smiled empathically.

"There is one more thing, My Queen.", Falk said as he stepped forward again and began to unravel a scroll he had in his hands. "A courier delivered this to us at dawn, he was paid very well to have it rushed it here."

Elisif leaned forward in her seat and groaned. "Another city denouncing it's loyalty to the Empire?"

Falk quietly handed the scroll to Elisif. "The Dragonborn has requested council with you at once, My Queen. She's on the way to Solitude."


	8. Eight: The Reach

Chapter Eight: The Reach

The air was warm and dry and from what Teldryn had told her of the Reach, it was going to be like this the remainder of the journey to Solitude. Katara welcomed the thought of little to no snow for a change. Skyrim's sunny locations were some of its most beautiful. The grass was always lush and green and the flowers always seemed to be in bloom. Small game was abundant and the temperate climate made traveling easier on the horses they bought. Sinmir insisted on buying three, one for each of them. He said it would help them get to Solitude quicker and could prove useful in snap decision getaways.

Teldryn rode on his horse in front of Sinmir and Katara. He was the only one that had been to Solitude before and knew the way, although he occasionally checked the map to reassure himself they were on the correct path. This gave Sinmir and Katara time to chat with one another, continuing to learn more about each other.

"I still can't believe your family was okay with you leaving.", Katara said.

"I told them I'd be back, which reassured my worried mother a bit. My sister, Ophelia, can't say a damn thing about me leaving.", Sinmir said, laughing lightly.

"Why do you say that?"

"Ah, she's been sneaking around with Jon Battle-Born since they were teenagers. I caught them a couple years ago and at least once a week since then. I never told my mother or father because I had a feeling I'd need to use it against her at some point.", Sinmir finished, laughing harder now.

Katara looked a little surprised. "You're not upset about your sister secretly courting a Battle-Born?"

Sinmir smirked for a moment. "No, not really. For all I know they could actually be in love. You can't control who you fall in love with."

"I was under the impression we'd be accompanied by a warrior on this trip, not a sappy poet.", Teldryn hollered just a couple feet ahead of them on his horse, eavesdropping.

Katara shot him a glance. Sinmir shrugged it off.

"What about you, elf? Ever found love?", Sinmir asked.

"No, and I don't intend to.", Teldryn replied dryly.

Sinmir shrugged again then turned back towards Katara.

"Do you believe in love?", he asked her genuinely.

Katara didn't really know how to answer that question. She didn't grow up with parents so she's never seen a stable marriage, and she certainly hasn't felt love with any man before.

"I'm sure it exists. Maybe one day it'll just...hit me.", she said.

Sinmir slightly looked away for a moment. "I hope you can find it someday."

Teldryn stopped his horse abruptly and instructed it to turn around to face Katara and Sinmir.

"Oh, well you two just get it over with already!", he yelled. Katara and Sinmir looked on with red faces and wide eyes.

Teldryn sighed in annoyance. "Kat, this man is smitten for you. Why else would he beg to journey hundreds of miles from his home for a woman he just met 3 days ago? And you, lad...", he spun around pointing at Sinmir. "are crazy."

Katara and Sinmir were still red faced and silent. Teldryn waltzed back to his horse and got back up in the saddle.

"So if we're ever going to get through this without me slicing both of your throats, I suggest we cut the horse shit and act like the threat that we are. Besides,", he clicked his tongue twice and the horse trotted forward. "we're nearing the Reach, be on the look out for Forsworn.", he finished, his tone serious and cautious.

The sun had set by this point and Katara could tell they were definitely in the Reach. The landscape had changed from pine trees and purple mountain flowers to cherry blossom trees in full bloom and dense shrubbery. There were moutains, but they didn't look like regular mountains. They weren't capped with snow and they resembled sharp rock formations. They looked treacherous. A light fog hung around the tops of the rocks. For the first time in her life, Katara felt the humidity. It was muggy and hot, making her hair slightly stick to her face and forehead. Teldryn's sleek mohawk had gone somewhat flat and Sinmir's red beard had beads of mist on it. It was very dark, Teldryn occasionally conjured a flame in his palm to serve as a torch. He knew the magelight spell - a spell that created a lit orb to hover you for a small period of time, but he assured them that staying hidden and quiet was to be of their advantage if it came to a spring Forsworn attack.

"We don't need to be out much later. There's a town just a few miles up the road. Karthwasten I believe.", Teldryn said as they trotted along.

Katara sat up in her saddle, she thought she was almost beginning to doze off. Sinmir was keeping watch on the roads like Teldryn.

"I could go for a hot meal and a cool bed.", she wearily said.

They arrived in Karthwasten several moments later and tied up their horses at the stables. The three of them grabbed their light luggage and headed for the Villemyr Inn.

Inside was the busiest Katara thought a little inn ever could be. There were people at almost every table and many were gathered by the fire with their bottles of mead and tankards in hand. It was almost loud in there when combined with the music from the female bard. There was a small crowd huddled around her laughing and drinking and singing along to her tunes.

The three of them made their way to the innkeeper, she was rushing around behind the counter wiping down things and rearranging bottles and mugs. Two pots hung over the fireplace behind her cooking meat and vegetables.

She noticed them walking up and groaned. "Sorry, it's not that I don't want your business, it's just that I'm very short staffed tonight. And by short staffed I mean just me. I'm supposed to have help from my waitress but she's too busy up there singing her heart out.", the innkeeper frustratingly said as she glared at the bard laughing with the patrons.

"We won't be needing any special tending to. To make things easy,", Teldryn said as he reached into his coin purse and fished out some septims. "here's 30 coins - for our rooms and our food.", he finished, picking up 3 wine bottles from the counter.

The innkeeper hastily nodded and accepted the money. "Fine. Once this is done cooking I'll bring you out some venison chops."

"Sing 'Ragnar the Red'!", a loud bar patron suddenly yelled from behind them. They turned and looked towards the crowd gathered around the bard.

"Aye, a fine but bloody tale, that one!", she exclaimed back before positioning her hands and fingers over the guitar.

"Oh there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red,

who came riding to Whiterun from old Roriksteaaad.

And the braggard did swagger and brandish his blade,

as he told of bold battles and gold he had maaade.

But then he went quiet, did Ragnar the Red, when he met the shield-maiden, Matilda, who saaaid:

'Oh, you talk and you lie and you drink all our mead,

Now I think it's high time that you lie down and bleed!'

And so there came slashing and clashing of steel,

as the brave lass Matilda charged in full of zeal.

And the braggard named Ragnar was boastful no mooore...

when his ugly red head rolled around the floor!"

The bar patrons cheered loudly and clanking their mugs of ale together in boisterous laughter and singing. Her voice was beautiful. It was melodic and soft but passionate and powerful. When she sangs the words, she did so with a true love for it. She was a shorter petite girl, perhaps a few years younger than Katara. Her dark blonde hair was long and wavy and flowed down to her breast. She wore a busty bar maid's outfit. It was green with a thick light brown leather belt wrapped at her tiny waist. On her wrists were straps of leather that were fashioned into bracelets, some were intertwined with green and yellow twine. A small gold necklace hung at her neck, at the end was a small piece of gold ore. Her brown leather boots were laced almost up to her knees.

The bard walked away from the crowd and behind the bar, grabbing a bottle of wine from behind the counter.

"That was beautiful.", Katara leaned over and told her.

She smiled wide and her eyes lit up. "Thank you kindly, traveler. What brings you here?"

"We're headed for Solitude.", Teldryn answered. "Speaking of which, did you study at the Bard's College there in the city?"

She continued to smile and shook her head. "'Fraid not.", her voice was thicker than most Nords Katara had known, it was more Icelandic - Celtic. "I'm just a mere traveler like yourselves, only I sing for a livin'. I go from town to town just playing at inns earnin' my coin. Didn't need to go to a fancy college to learn how to live life simply and carefree. I was meant to roam and explore all that there is in the great land of Skyrim."

The bard looked around the inn for a moment then leaned in to Katara, Teldryn, and Sinmir and whispered. "Matter of fact, I've been stationary at this inn for a couple weeks now. That's a wee bit too long for me. Solitude you said? Even though I didnt attend I still have friends from the College that play at the local inns in the city."

Suddenly the innkeeper emerged from the kitchen carrying their bowls of soup.

"You're the worst maid I've ever hired, Dagny.", she said irritatingly. "I want you out of here come morning."

The three of them turned to Dagny, expecting her to be upset. Instead she just shrugged as the innkeeper walked away. "Feel like having another straggler along with ya to Solitude?", she asked the three of them staring at her.

Katara, Teldryn, Sinmir, and Dagny spent some of the night talking and exchanging tales around a few bottles of wine. They had learned that Dagny was originally from Windhelm but she chose the bard life at a young age and began hopping aboard traveling caverns and playing at inns wherever they stopped along the way. She enjoyed traveling and seeing the land and meeting the people.

"It's a thrill for me", Dagny said as she poured everyone another cup of wine, emptying the bottle. "I live off the land, off of little coin, and entertain fine folks from Windhelm to all the way to Markarth."

She was carefree and always joyous, someone who could put a smile on your face during the hardest days. She knew all the ancient Nord legends and tales, most of which she had written songs about or memorized existing tunes of.

"But don't you ever get sick of it all?", Sinmir asked.

Dagny scrunched her face. "Me? Blazes, no. This was my calling. Entertaining is a true art form. Bards are responsible for passing down bloody tales, bringing smiles to those in dark times, and being scholars of ancient Nord legends."

Katara sat quietly for a moment. The inn had died down by this point and there were scarce patrons still hanging around. She looked back at Dagny.

"Do you know any legends about the Dragonborn?", Katara asked, swishing around her wine.

Dagny's face lit up. "Of course. Every bard knows stories of the Dragonborn. Word on the roads and the inns is that Alduin has returned to reclaim Skyrim.", she leaned in closely, as if telling them all a big secret. "There have been whispers of the Dragonborn's return as well."

The three of them sat silently, shooting each other occasional glances.

Teldryn broke the silence. "Well, Solitude is just about a day's travel from here. I suppose if you keep to yourself and don't talk our ears off like you have tonight, then you could tag along with us until we arrive late tomorrow."

Dagny smiled brightly and raised her cup to Teldryn. "Aye, I was hoping you'd offer! Been a while since I've been to the Imperial city. It'll be good to see my friends again. Say, why are you headed to Solitude any way?"

Katara, Teldryn, and Sinmir all exchanged a common look.

"Business.", Katara answered simply.

Morning light came and the three of them, with their new addition of Dagny, loaded up the horses. Teldryn had let Dagny ride his horse while he walked alongside, checking his map periodically. Katara noticed Dagny had only packed her guitar, which was strapped around her back, and a flute which hung in a pocket on her belt.

"Do you not carry a weapon?", Katara asked her, looking her over.

Dagny smiled and reached down to her left leg and pulled out a dagger from inside her leather boots. "Mostly for carving up my flute and occasionally peeling fruits.". She went back to happily humming a soft tune before turned back towards Katara again. "How long have you two been courting?", she asked, motioning to both her and Sinmir.

Katara and Sinmir turned red and glanced away smiling. "We've only just met several days ago.", Sinmir replied.

"Ah, well you've got lover's eyes, lad.", Dagny said to him. "I've seen that look on people all throughout Skyrim spending these past years playing at inns."

"My parents met at an inn. My mother was a bard just like you.", Katara answered.

Dagny smiled, then again there has been scarce a moment when she wasn't. "You'd be amazed at how many successful courtships I've seen come from two patrons meeting eyes in a crowded inn. It's a classic romance for the ages."

Katara wondered if her own mother was anything like Dagny - bubbly, warm, and passionate about her art in ways that showed those she met a new perspective. It made her remember her mother fondly in that moment.

Several minutes later Teldryn halted everyone. Around them was dense shrubbery on the side of the roads. It was still and quiet aside from the occasional snort from their horses.

Teldryn stood still for a moment and looked around before walking over to a shrub that had broken twigs and leaves laying beside it haphazardly.

"Something has been through here not long ago.", he said quietly as he picked up on the twigs and crunched it in his hands. "Could be deer, or it could be Forsworn.", he stood up and walked back to the group. "Best we keep our eyes open and weapons handy.". For the first time in a couple weeks, he put on his helmet and fastened it to his head. Katara and Sinmir did the same, smiling at their matching iron horned helmets that got them talking the very first night they met. Dagny stopped her light humming and placed her small dagger on her lap, resting loosely in her hand.

They slowly continued on down the road, not a one of them talking. The horses ears began flicking back and forth, to the right side of the road for a moment then back to the left. They were sensing something.

Teldryn noticed and he once again halted them. The four of them sat in silence and listened in the shrubs and dense trees hanging above them. Nothing could be heard, it was still. The horses were still tense but no longer flicking their ears. Teldryn motioned for them to continue moving. A few short moments later a sudden high pitched whinnie erupted from Sinmir's horse. It happened so quick that it took them a moment to realize there was a long sharp arrow plunged in the side of the horse's neck, blood leaking from it. The horse reared up on its hind legs and cried out in agony, staggering it and causing Sinmir to be thrown off landing on the ground hard.

Teldryn's horse whinnied out of shock and fear, causing Dagny to hold tightly to the reigns as she was being thrown around. Teldryn unsheathed his sword and immediately conjured a Flame Attronach and feverishly looked around them. Sinmir winced on the ground but was able to find his footing again and unsheathed his sword as well. Katara hurriedly climbed off her horse and pulled out her greatsword, holding it tightly to her chest.

Dagny was able to get the horse to calm some and Katara's horse stuck close to them. Katara, Teldryn, and Sinmir formed a loose circle around Dagny and the two horses, standing with their swords in hand and the Flame Attronach obediently hovering beside Teldryn ready for battle.

Sinmir's horse had fallen to the ground, kicking up dust on the cobble stone road as it hit the ground. Blood was pouring from its neck and its heavy breathing slowed.

All was quiet again when a man slowly stepped out from the bushes with a bow and readied arrow pointed at the group. He was wearing all animal skins and a headdress that was made out of the head of a deer. It's antlers sharply pointing towards the sky. Three more warriors wearing similar animal skins emerged from both sides of the road and slowly walked towards them. A few of them had axes and swords that were made out of animal bones, and they had leaves attached to their pelts. War paint covered their body and faces to blend in with the scenery. All their weapons were aimed at the group as they slowly circled them.

One Forsworn warrior that had an axe in one hand slyly smiled at Teldryn's Flame Attronach. "That's some impressive magicka, elf." He then formed an icy crystal in his empty palm. It made a cracking noises as it hovered over his fingertips. In the blink of an eye he arched his arm back and flung a crystal into Katara's horse's hind leg. The other three Forsworn leapt into action.

The horse shot up on its hind legs and cried out before galloping injuredly away and staggering to the ground near the side of the road. Katara and Sinmir quickly crossed swords with one warrior each. Steel clashing against bone swords as the two warriors and Katara and Sinmir yelled and swung at each other. Dagny had her dagger out and was wildly swinging it at one warrior who was trying to get close enough to slice both her and the horse, the Flame Attronach shooting fireballs at him. The remaining Forsworn and Teldryn went head to head in a dangerous battle of fire and ice.

Most of Teldryn's chitin armor absorbed the ice spikes, causing them to shatter against the exterior. But it caused him to stagger and weaken his own magicka. He shot flames back at the Forsworn in a fit of fury, some missing and igniting the shrubs behind them off to the side of the road.

The warrior fighting the Flame Attronach landed a swift slice of his sword through the Attronach causing it to lose its firey figure and fall to the ground. The Forsworn inched closer to Dagny but then the Flame Attronach exploded a firey eruption five or six feet wide before disintegrating. The Forsworn doubled over while on fire and crying out in pain.

Sinmir had gutted the warrior he was taking on then quickly made his way to help Katara with her fight. The warrior had spun around and landed a swift slice to Katara's left arm, leaving a long gash in her skin. She hollered out and instinctivly crouched down to place her other hand over it. Sinmir had stepped in and grabbed the Forsworn by the back his neck and in one swift motion sliced his throat, blood spurting from his jugular as he fell to his knees and laid on the ground. Sinmir rushed to tend to Katara and her bleeding arm.

Teldryn and the remaining Forsworn were duking it out all over the road, flames and ice spikes being thrown in every direction. They were both grunting and breathing heavily. Finally they inched their way closer to each other and both raised their swords. Teldryn jabbed with his sword and the Forsworn went swinging with his axe.

Katara saw the intense battle and sprung to her feet, grabbing her greatsword off the road and raising it high into the air. From behind, she brought the greatsword down on the warrior, hard. She severed his arm from his shoulder. When he turned around, screaming in pain, Teldryn plunged his sword through the Forsworn's back into his shoulder blade, ending his dying screams and he fell to the ground.

Katara fell back to the floor from the weight of the greatsword and from exhaustion, Teldryn was breathing heavily, as all four of them were. Dagny was trying to calm the horse once more, trembling herself.

Sinmir was the first to speak. "Is everyone alright?"

Everyone groaned lightly but they were all in one piece. Dagny was examining the horse, it had deep burns on its side from the explosion of the Flame Attronach.

"It'll get infected soon.", Dagny said sadly, motioning to the horses lacerations. "It can't go on like this...its not humane."

Everyone knew what she meant and what needed to be done but it was the furthest thing from their minds having just escaped with their lives.

Sinmir knelt down and tied some cloth from one of the dead warrior's pelt around Katara's bleeding arm. She winced when he touched it but it wasn't the end of the world. There was guaranteed to be some herbs and potions at a shop in Solitude to help with the throbbing pain.

"You saved me...", she said to Sinmir as he bandaged her arm up. He smiled down at her wearily.

"You handled yourself fine, Kat.", he said tenderly. "Your first wound in battle?"

She nodded as he finished the wrapping and helped her to her feet. As he lifted her up something suddenly hit him in his collarbone. He looked down and started to stagger back when he realized it was a sharp arrow sticking out of his chest, blood beginning to pour from it. All four of them turned to look and saw one lone Forsworn emerging slowly from the bushes, a bow and arrow readied in his hands.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion at that moment. Before any of them could react, the Forsworn archer had released another searing arrow towards Sinmir, this time striking him directly in the neck. Sinmir fell to the ground, his eyes wide and his face going pale.

Katara threw every piece of survival advice out the window, every combat tip she had learned...and threw herself down on the ground over Sinmir's body. His body was seizing up and blood pooled in his mouth, making his tongue a deep red. He was gasping for air. Tears welled up in Katara's eyes as they began flowing down her tan cheeks.

Time was still slowed. The past 8 seconds had felt like an eternity. Dagny screamed loudly in shock at the sight of Sinmir's body going limp on the hard dirt road. Teldryn reached for his sword and began charging the Forsworn archer.

Katara's instincts kicked back in. She felt a raging fire in her belly, a fury welling up inside her soul. Pure anger. As quick as the snap of a finger, she shot up from Sinmir and turned towards the smiling Forsworn. Tears streaming down her face, she unleashed her Voice. The sound similar to a clap of thunder radiated all around them and the force sent the warrior flying back several feet until he landed in the bushes, his body limp from the sheer force of her Thu'um.

She fell back to her knees and cried out, a pitiful cry mixed with anger, sadness, and adrenaline. Teldryn still had his weapon drawn as he waited a few seconds for any more surprise Forsworn attacks. Him and Dagny immediately rushed to Sinmir's side, who had slipped away at this point.

Dagny held her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle herself from vomiting through her gutteral tears as she knelt over Sinmir's body. Teldryn's eyes were wide and he was shaky as he looked over Sinmir. Then he rushed to Katara's side.

He fell down beside her, lifting her face off the cold dirty road and cupping her sobbing cheeks in his hands. Seeing her like this almost made tears well up in his own eyes.

"Kat...", he whispered to her face. She continued to sob and Teldryn brought her face close to his chest and wrapped his arms around her trying his best to console her violent sobbing.

Around them lay two dead horses and Sinmir Gray-Mane.

Almost an hour had passed since the bloody fight and Katara, Teldryn, and Dagny had calmed down and began picking up their belongings that were scattered all over the road. Then came time to inevitably do something with the bodies that lie around them. The three of them had decided to leave the Forsworn bodies and horses in the road, for two reasons: One, dead Forsworn may send a message to other nearby Forsworn camps that they should be considered a threat while traveling, and it could also be useful in letting travelers know the dangers of the Reach. And two, the horse's bodies were too large for the three of them, already weary, to drag off to the side of the road.

But they all agreed that Sinmir should be laid to rest in a clearing not far. Dagny collected a small bouquet of nightshade, a beautiful deep purple flower that often represented death and was presented at funerals. She also gathered a small bouquet of yellow mountain flowers to add a happy color to the bunch. She believed it represented the delicate and beautiful balance of life.

Teldryn began digging a hole, about 4 feet in depth, in a clearing off to the side. The only thing standing nearby was a cherry blossom tree in full bloom. It had pink blooms covering thick deep brown limbs. The mid afternoon sun had cast a light shadow into the clearing. Teldryn wiped his brow with his red face mask and set down the sharp stone that he had found. He used that to dig the hole since they didn't think they'd need a shovel on their journey.

Katara knelt beside Sinmir and gently wiped the blood and dirt off with a damp cloth. His once vibrant dark brown eyes were now closed and his red beard was stained even darker from the blood she couldn't get off. She had swollen bags under her eyes from crying and her cheeks her stained with tears, but she knew she had to be strong. He would've wanted her to be strong.

"It's ready.", Teldryn quietly said as he walked through the shrubbery from the clearing.

The three of them carefully lifted Sinmir's body and tip toed it over to the grave. They lowered him into it and stood back, looking down at his body.

"We should all say a little somethin'.", Dagny proposed solemnly. "We have to do right by the dead."

Teldryn fiddled with his red ascot in his hands and cleared his throat. "Sinmir was a good warrior and an even better man. May rest peacefully in Sovngarde.", he finished with his head hanging low but still trying to sound strong like the man he had to be.

Katara stepped forward and gently laid Sinmir's sword over his chest, carefully placing his hands over the pommel. She stepped back and felt the eyes of Teldryn and Dagny on her.

"Sinmir was the kindest soul I've ever met. He made me feel like I was...normal again.", her voice caught in her throat. "I felt like I had a real friend for the first time in my life because of him. He's someone I had begun to...care about. He will be very...very missed. May the All-Maker preserve him.", she finished, wiping a small tear from her face.

Dagny began to quietly hum a beautiful tune, it was melodic and comforting. She hummed it softly while Teldryn filled the dirt back into the hole and over Sinmir's body. When he was finished Katara gently placed his iron horned helmet over the top of the grave, she laid nightshade around it. Teldryn and Dagny quietly turned to walk back to the road. Katara stood there for a moment and stared at Sinmir's grave. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and turned to walk back to the road as well.

The sun was at high evening by this point and it would be getting dark in an hour or so. Teldryn strapped on his knapsack.

"The Forsworn attack has slowed our journey a bit it would seem.", he peered up at the sun behind the trees. "At this rate we won't get to Solitude until after midnight. There are no towns nearby so I'm going to suggest we set up camp for the night at a nearby clearing a few miles up the road."

Katara looked around and nodded. "It's probably for the best. But we need to make sure we're somewhere safe from these savages.", she finished, looking down at one of the dead Forsworn.

"Already ahead of you.", Teldryn replied back, looking at his map. "There's a rock formation just a few miles ahead of us that can provide coverage from the road. The only thing on the other side of it is a river. I'd wager that it would suffice.", he finished.

Katara and Dagny nodded and all three of them set off down the road. Teldryn sighed heavily and turned his attention to the burned horse, its leg shaking as blood oozed from his scars.

"Why don't the two of you run up the road and I'll catch up with you?", Teldryn softly suggested. Katara and Dagny nodded and began walking down the road. They knew what had to be done.

Teldryn caught up with them several moments later. "When we get settled for the night, I'll write a letter to House Gray-Mane.", he softly said to Katara.

She shook her head and furrowed her brow. "No, thank you though. But it should be me."

He gracefully nodded.

As promised there was the rock formation several miles ahead of them with the rushing river behind it. Katara, Teldryn, and Dagny quickly went to work setting up small tents and bed rolls made out of pelts and leather. Teldryn gathered some firewood from a nearby dying tree and started to light a fire with the flames he created at his fingertips. Katara was able to fashion a fishing pole together using a stick, thin twine from Dagny, and an earthworm she dug out of the river's damp soil. She caught a big pink salmon. Dagny cooked the salmon by roasting it by stick over the fire. The three of them shared the tender fish over the open fire while the river ran behind them.

After they were finished eating the three of them sat around the fire quietly. Teldryn laid down on his bedroll and cleaned his sword meticulously. Dagny sat against a rock with her guitar in hand, fiddling with the strings and occasionally strumming a few chords to test its adjusted sound. Katara sat back and listened to the sound of the crackling fire, a role of paper and a quill on her lap.

What could she say to Sinmir's parents that would cushion the horrific loss of their son and the eventual heir to House Gray-Mane? She couldn't imagine his already worried mother's devastation and heartbreak when she learns of her son's passing. Katara feared for Ranmir Gray-Mane, too. He had already become unstable from the tensions with House Battle-Born and the war. This might just send him over the deep end. The whole thing brought a tear to Katara's eye and her already pounding headache grew.

"I know who you are, ya know.", Dagny softly spoke up and said. Katara glanced over at her confused. "Your Thu'um back there. You're the Dragonborn."

Katara nodded as that memory flashed through her mind again. She had forgotten that Dagny had no clue. Katara nodded slowly. "I am."

The two girls were quiet for a moment. Katara had to speak up to break the silence.

"Does that...change how you see me?", she asked genuinely.

"Not at all. I just feel like I should be curtsyin' ya and such.", Dagny replied back with soft smile.

Katara smiled back. "Please, don't. It's not something I really got to choose. I like the normality from time to time. Well, the illusion of normality at least."

Dagny stopped fiddling with her guitar and set it in her lap. "You know, for a bard the greatest honor is having yer name written in storybooks and tales for ages to come, or having a riveting song sung in yer honor while friends gather to drink and celebrate.", she smiled lightly. "There are so many great tales and tunes of your legacy, Dragonborn."

Katara's eyes widened and for a moment she remembered back to the bard at Ivarstead singing about the Dragonborn. She was indeed the one they sung of in the songs, she just didn't think of herself as this prophecied savior yet.

"Could you sing me one of them?", Katara asked her seriously. Teldryn stopped cleaning his sword and turned his attention to the girls.

Dagny smiled warmly and crossed one leg over the other while positioning the guitar in her hands. "Of course, Katara."

She strummed a light tune for a few moments, lightly tapping her foot. It was a comforting melody.

Alduin's wings, they did darken the sky,

His roar fury's fire, and his scales sharpened scythes.

Men ran and they cowered, and they fought and they died.

They burned and they bled as they issued their cries.

We need saviors to free us from Alduin's rage,

Heroes on the field of this new war to wage.

And if Alduin wins, man is gone from this world,

Lost in the shadow of the black wings unfurled.

But then came the Tongues on that terrible day.

Steadfast as winter, they entered the fray.

And all heard the music of Alduin's doom,

The sweet song of Skyrim, sky-shattering Thu'um.

And so the Tongues freed us from Alduin's rage,

Gave the gift of the Voice, ushered in a new Age!

And if Alduin's eternal, then eternity's done,

For his story is over and the dragons are gone.

Dagny sang it with passion and knowledge. Teldryn and Katara sat there wide eyed at her soothing voice and story telling through her art. Katara felt a new feeling forming in her gut - pride. She knew there was once a great handful of chosen Nords that mastered the gift of the Voice, and that she was honored to be held in the same breath as those Nords. At times she doubted how strong she was, emotionally and physically.

"Thank you for that, Dagny.", Katara softly said to her when she finished.

Dagny got up and sarcastically curtsied, to which Katara and Teldryn both laughed lightly.

"Well, I'm turning in for the night. We're up and out of here by sunlight.", Teldryn said as he rolled over on his bed roll and pulled a pelt over his torso.

Dagny set her guitar against the rock and placed her bed roll bunched up at her head, creating a pillow. "G'night, lads."

Katara looked back down at her blank roll of paper. She tapped the quill on her knee and then began penning the letter.

House Gray-Mane,

It is with a deep sadness in my heart that I regret to inform you of your son's, Sinmir Gray-Mane, untimely death. Sinmir had been traveling with the Dragonborn as her faithful aid and council. In the eastern region of the Reach in the midday hours of Wendas, a surprise Forsworn attack overran the caravan and Sinmir was shot by a Forsworn archer. Just moments prior he had saved the injured Dragonborn from death. He passed away quickly and painlessly.

Sinmir's bravery and selflessness will never be matched. He put his own life on the line for honor and duty to the Dragonborn. He served me faithfully not only as a companion in battle, but as a true friend. I want you to know that I cared for your son. His heart and honor is a direct reflection of the House that raised him.

Below is a map of where the Dragonborn has buried Sinmir should you wish to visit his grave. We felt it was only right to honor a brave man who died the way every Nord hoped - with a sword in their hands.

My deepest condolences.

The Dragonborn


	9. Nine: A Queen's Mercy

Chapter Nine: A Queen's Mercy

"There's Solitude on the cliff over there.", Teldryn pointed as they came to a clearing in the road. Several miles away in the distance stood the huge city of Solitude. It was built right on a cliff that hung over the the mouth of the sea. The sun was rising just above the sea and illuminating the brick castles, towers, and windmills that were found within Solitude's walls.

Dagny held her hand over her brow to shield the glare from the sun. "Aye, it's a beautiful and lively city.", she said, smiling lightly as if remembering fond memories.

Katara saw the beauty that was Solitude, but she also remembered that within its walls held the Imperial city of Skyrim. That thought troubled her and made her anxious. She was going to speak with High Queen Elisif and try to put an end, or at least halt, this war that's plagued the land. She was not prepared for her their meeting. She only hoped it came to her shortly.

The city gates of Solitude were draped with the red Imperial emblem. The trees and shrubs around the walls were neatly maintained and trimmed. Several guards stood at attention along the gates.

The three of them approached the doors, the guards pushed it open for them and allowed them to pass. Inside people were hustling through the streets to various vendors and shops, horse drawn carriages trotted every direction as citizens of Solitude went on with their day.

Dagny took a deep breath in and out. "Ah, the city still smells like Imperial coin.", she said, laughing sarcastically. "The Winking Skeever Inn is right over there, Teldryn.", she finished pointing to a brick inn.

Katara had entrusted the note with Teldryn and instructed him to rush it to House Gray-Mane via a courier once they arrived in Solitude. He followed Dagny to the inn and Katara gazed in the entirety of the city. There were guards walking or standing around but they weren't Imperial guards, just Solitude city guards. It made her feel a bit more relieved.

She noticed a shop off to her right. A bright blue sign hung from its door that had carvings and paintings of fine robes and clothes on it. If she was to approach the High Queen then she should probably be dressed appropriately.

"Welcome to Radiant Ranmient. How can I be of some - Oh...", the High Elf woman behind the counter smirked when she saw Katara come in wearing clunky dirty armor, her white hair frizzed and dirt smeared on her face, arms, and legs. The leather bandage on her cut arm was stained with blood from earlier.

"I'm not sure you can afford this place, deary.", the High Elf woman added snydly. High Elves were the third and final race of Mer, they were known as the Thalmer. They were generally a very arrogant and pretentious race, and much like the Bosmer they had yellow skin, however the Thalmer were more of a faded out yellow. They were all very well spoken, perhaps more so than Dunmer, but they treated other races rudely. It was just their demeanor.

Katara glared at the woman and then proudly plucked out a fat coin purse. The Thalmer woman reluctantly smiled and took the coin before bringing out clothes on hangers for Katara to gaze at.

A beautiful fine blue robe caught her eye. It was made of fine material and stitched precisely. It's outer layer was trimmed with a thin gray satin line. It matched her eyes. She remembered she had brown boots that would match, along with gold necklace.

Katara picked out the robes she wanted and the shopkeeper began to put away the clothes. "Oh wait!", Katara blurted out. The shopkeeper rolled her eyes and set out the clothes again with an annoyed sigh. Katara scanned the clothing again and landed on a fine red men's robe, similar to hers. She smiled and added that to her purchase.

The Winking Skeever Inn, aside from its terrible name, had a busy and vibrant crowd - as was expected in a large city like Solitude. This was the first brick inn she'd seen. It allowed for their to be at least three or four oven and fires going on in its large dining and bar hall. Over the bar hung bundles of grapes and twigs of berries from a large wooden beam that ran overhead. Wine bottles, mead, tankards, and vegetables laying on the bar counter.

To her left was Dagny, sitting by one of the fires with a group of people her age. They were laughing and singing with their instruments. Katara guessed she had caught up with the friends she mentioned prior to arriving. Her eyes landed on Teldryn, who was at the bar talking to the innkeeper with the letter in his hand. She noticed him give a few septims to the innkeeper in exchange for the letter. He turned around and saw her.

"He's going to pass it along to a courier now.", he said walking up to her.

Katara nodded and followed Teldryn up to their rooms.

She laid her knapsack down on the bed and began to open up the buttons of the flaps. Teldryn watched her fiddle with the straps before pulling out two fine robes, one red and one blue.

"I got these for us across the street. We need to look appropriate when meeting High Queen Elisif soon.", Katara said as she held up the men's red robe and then tossed it to him.

He held it in his hands and looked it over with a sour look on his face. "Red isn't even my color."

She shot him an unamused glare. "It's all part of the plan, Tel. Let's put them on and get this over with."

Her white hair was washed and neatly tied in a French braid down her nape, her blue robes were fastened and fitting to her slender form, the gold necklace shimmered in the light, and her piercing gray eyes were sparkling and determinated.

Then there was Teldryn, who had thrown a fit the whole time he was dressing, Katara could hear from his bedroom. With some vulgar muttering, he finally came out of his room donned in the fine robes. His black trimmed mohawk was combed neatly and handsomely. There was nothing he could do about the purple tribal marks down his neck, but overall he cleaned up fit enough to see the High Queen.

They were both standing in front of the doors to King's Keep, staring up at the massivness of the castle. One of the guards leaned over the door.

"State your business in King's Keep.", he asked sternly.

"I am the Dragonborn, I have written a request to have council with High Queen Elisif the Fair. I believe I am expected.", Katara replied back just as stern but with poise.

The two guards looked at each and one of them stepped through the doors inside for a brief moment. He emerged outside again a minute later, pulling open the door for them to walk, the other guard followed suit and opened his door as well.

More guards stood inside where they were greeted with a large staircase that broke into two sets of stairs, separating at the base and reconnecting at the top floor.

Katara and Teldryn walked up either side of the stairs, meeting at the top. Waiting for them on the left side of the room was Fenrar donned in his armor standing with his arms crossed. Next to him was Falk Firebeard in fine blue robes, similar to Katara's. He had a book in his hand. On the right side of the room was Annette, the court wizard. Then next to her, to Katara's sudden shock, was General Tullius. He had his eye on every step they took.

In the middle of the room sat the High Queen Elisif on her throne. It was made out of fine silvers and stone. An Imperial banner hung on the wall behind her. She was wearing her pink robes with the white fur trim and her golden jeweled crown placed gracefully on her half up half down dark blonde hair. Katara was surprised to find her not much older than herself.

Katara and Teldryn slowly approached the throne, both feeling Elisif's eyes on them. They curtsied gracefully and she nodded at them.

"So you're the Dragonborn I've heard about...", Elisif spoke, her voice breaking a deafening silence in the room.

"Yes, My Queen. I trust that you recieved my letter.", Katara answered loudly and direct. She was determined to remain strong.

"Aye, we did.", Falk spoke up.

"I was curious as to what the Dragonborn of Skyrim would want with me.", Elisif said. "Who is this?", she asked motioning to Teldryn.

Teldryn stepped forward. "I am Teldryn Sero of Morrowind, Your Grace. An aid to the Dragonborn."

Elisif nodded. She stood up from her throne and placed her hands in front of her lap and walked over to where they were standing.

"What business would you have with me, Dragonborn?", she asked her genuinely and direct.

Katara took a deep breath and felt the eyes of the room on her. "I'm here to address the dragon problem in Skyrim."

"I'm relieved to hear you say that, Dragonborn.", Elisif said as she reached for her goblet of wine on a nearby table. "Every day I hear stories of more attacks coming in from all over Skyrim.", she held her cup up to her chest and shivered for a moment, as if the thought of a dragon attack terrified her. "It's only a matter of time before one attacks Solitude."

Katara hung her head for a moment. "As much as it pains me to confirm, My Queen, you're right. These attacks will only worsen if Alduin is not put to a stop."

"Alduin, he's the one that was at Helgen wasn't he?", General Tullius suddenly interrupted. Katara turned her gaze towards him but tried not to make eye contact.

"Yes, he was.", she softly replied, trying to turn her attention back to Elisif. "I am the only one who can stop Alduin, and I can do that, My Queen.", Katara's voice was powerful and demanding, pride welling up in her again.

Elisif smiled faintly. "You have to.", she softly said, placing her hand gently on Katara's shoulder in an endearing way. "I've read the legends...there is no other way."

Katara nodded thankfully and Elisif turned to go back to her throne. "Do you need my assistance for anything?", Elisif asked as she spun around to sit back down.

"That's actually the reason I came here today, My Queen. I do need your help...putting this war on a temporary truce.", Katara replied bluntly but hesitantly.

Elisif snapped back around to look at Katara, the wine in her goblet splashing around. Her aids shifted uncomfortably in their spots and General Tullius furrowed his brow for a moment.

"Excuse me...what?", the General asked in confusion.

Elisif held up her hand for him to stay silent, never while breaking eye contact with Katara.

"How exactly do you think I should halt this war, Dragonborn?", she asked, a bit defensively.

Katara looked down and stammered, she didn't know anything about war tactics and strategics. She wasn't expecting to be asked that question. "Well, I - I..."

"I can't just halt it all with the snap of my fingers.", Elisif's voice had changed to an upset tone now. "It would require pulling my Imperial troops out of every hold, telling all the soldiers to make camps only within the Reach.", she paced around in front of the throne with her wine in hand. "We just lost Whiterun, and you expect us to retreat while we're vulnerable and down?". There was confusion and genuine worry in her voice, an anxious look on her fair face.

Katara knew she was asking a lot of Elisif. She sympathized with her, knowing how much she had to deal with. She was a lot like Katara - she didn't get to choose all of this.

"Ulfric would never agree to a truce any way.", General Tullius added. Elisif did not silence him this time. "With Jarl Balgruf's treachery it puts the Stormcloaks with more ground and men gained on us. He'd be a fool to bow out while he's ahead."

"The very name makes my blood boil...", Elisif softly said through gritted teeth. Everyone was silent, staring at her. She walked over to Katara and stood close in front of her. "Of course a Stormcloak sympathizer wants the Empire to back down...", she said, staring right at Katara.

Katara and Teldryn glanced back at each other. "My Queen, I'm not a - ", Katara began to stammer.

"Save it.", Elisif said abruptly. "The moment we recieved your letter I had my archivists bringing me everything they could on you. I wanted to know who I was dealing with, Katara Aventus."

Katara looked around, her face was flushed and she felt taken off guard. She tried hard to retain her poised composure but General Tullius spoke up.

"You should know that your Dragonborn status is the only reason we're not binding your hands right now.", he sternly said. Katara felt Teldryn tense up behind her.

"Our sources tell us that you met with Ulfric Stormcloak a couple weeks ago.", the General continued. "On top of dodging the Imperial draft."

Elisif stood by the window, sipping from her goblet. She was quiet for a moment, as was Katara as she searched her head for something to say. Elisif turned towards her aids and General Tullius.

"Leave us.", she said, motioning to everyone except Katara. Everyone bowed and walked downstairs. Teldryn and Katara exchanged similar looks and he followed the rest downstairs.

Elisif walked back to her throne, finally sitting down in it again. She crossed one leg gracefully over the other and placed her hands in her lap. She sighed and looked down for a moment before returning her gaze to Katara.

"My husband, Torygg, was killed right here in this very room."

Katara lightly glanced around the room for a moment.

"Ulfric had requested council with him, just as you did today. Ulfric had been outspoken about disagreeing with Torygg's latest law outlawing Talos worship, so we thought he was here to gripe again. Torygg had awoken that morning dreading their meeting. He had so much stress on his plate that he wasn't ready to add Ulfric's screams and whines to that."

High Queen Elisif looked around the floor of her throne room.

"Ulfric walked right up those steps with several of his men at his side. He angrily called out my husband - called him a greedy king that was no longer fit to rule Skyrim. Torygg stood up, taken by surprise at Ulfric's words. Before any of my guards could react, Ulfric unleashed a sound that still haunts me in my dreams. The next thing I knew my husband was being thrown against that wall,", she pointed to the left wall behind her. "his body dismembered and mangled. Ulfric's men obediently drew their weapons to my men and struck them down. He escaped back to Windhelm and we can't seize him without harming the entire city of Windhelm. It may be Stormcloak territory but they're the people of Skyrim - my people.", she finished, her voice shaky and her hands trembling.

Katara placed her hands by her side firmly but gracefully. "I can't begin to imagine the pain you felt that day...and continue to feel."

Elisif looked at her with pleading angry eyes. "Then why do you choose to side with the man who causes that pain?"

"Because I was ripped from my people by the Empire you command!", Katara blurted out, a slight anger in her voice. The calm and sympathetic approach didn't seem to work so she switched tactics to meet the intimidating High Queen before her. "How can you allow innocent people to be forcefully taken from their homes and trained to serve the Empire - all because my father happened to be an Imperial?"

Elisif swallowed hard for a moment. She lowered her head slightly.

"I acknowledge your pain and suffering, but you need to understand that the pain has gone both ways.", Katara was holding back her own tears.

Elisif got off her throne and made her way over to Katara. She stood closely in front of her, to the point where Katara could smell the wine on her breath.

"Do you know what it feels like to be High Queen during all this madness?", Elisif asked softly, as if hurting deeply.

Katara only nodded and met her eyes. "I imagine it's a lot like being the Dragonborn - terrifying."

Elisif could no longer hold her tears, they began silently rolling down her pale cheeks. Her face reminded Katara of a dying fawn, the pitiful expressions it gives you while it takes its last breath. There was a deep, hovering sadness that enveloped Elisif the Fair. And for the first time since Torygg's death she felt like someone saw her as the grieving widow she was. Someone understood the raw pain.

Both Katara and High Queen Elisif had wiped their eyes after a couple moments. Elisif finally spoke up.

"This war is something where sides must be taken. But the return of Alduin? There are no sides in that...only life and death of every citizen in Skyrim."

"Absolutely, my Queen. That's why I come here today begging you to do what's right for your soldiers, for your people...for yourself.", Katara replied seriously.

Elisif looked at her for a long moment, soaking in her words. She looked away and nodded slowly.

"I will have to speak with General Tullius first, I expect there will be some resistance from him. But I ultimately command him so long as he stays on Skyrim soil. But there's still the matter of Ulfric.", Elisif said, turning back to her throne. "He has to agree to the truce as well."

"Yes, of course and I'm sure - "

"You're going to convince him."

Katara looked at her with wide eyes but remained silent.

"Well don't look at me like that.", Elisif said as she sat back down in her throne. "This was your idea, was it not?"

Katara looked around swallowed hard. "Yes, my Queen. But - but, I'm desperately trying to stay out of this war..."

Elisif almost laughed as she sipped her wine. "My dear, the time for that has already passed. You are just as much involved in this war as I am. You have to be the one to talk to Ulfric, convince him to convene and pull back the Stormcloak army. He'll think it's a trap if myself or the General approaches him. He already knows you, there's some level of trust the two of you must share. Your name is rapidly gaining recognition here in Skyrim, Dragonborn. Ulfric, being the true Nord he is, will listen to a legend like you."

Katara sighed but she knew it was the only route that made sense. She put her hands by her side again. "I understand, my Queen.". Katara lightly bowed and began to turn to walk away.

"There's more.", Elisif calmly said. Katara turned on her heel to face her again.

"Its far too dangerous for me to travel to Windhelm and just as dangerous for Ulfric to come here. We will need a remote location to meet at, somewhere preferably in the middle. I want no armies, I want no weapons drawn...just General Tullius and I with Ulfric and his right hand, Galmar. And you...Dragonborn.", she said sternly.

Katara waited a moment to see if the High Queen was done speaking before she spoke herself. "I will travel to Windhelm at once and speak with Ulfric Stormcloak. If you'd be so kind as to rent us a caravan for the long journey, it'd be most appreciated."

Elisif nodded. "Very well."

Katara lightly bowed to the High Queen and turned once more to leave. Elisif snapped her fingers and two guards at the top of the staircase lowered their weapons, preventing Katara from passing.

"I know where your little village is, where your people are, how to find you, and who you are. You'd do well to remember that when speaking with Ulfric Stormcloak, Ms. Aventus.", Elisif said very grimly. Katara did not turn to face her, although she could sense the High Queen's vicious gaze piercing her back. She snapped her fingers again and the guards raised their weapons and allowed Katara to pass through and out of King's Keep.

"She sounds fierce and demanding...it's almost attractive.", Teldryn said as he took a sip of his wine.

Katara took Teldryn back to the Winking Skeever and told him the entire encounter with High Queen Elisif over a bottle of wine.

Katara stared blankly for a moment. "No, she's weak."

Teldryn took another sip and waited for her to continue.

"She's scared beyond belief, and that fear makes her vulnerable...and she's painfully aware of her vulnerability. She's no different than I.", Katara took a big sip from the bottle. "Except she has an army at her back."

"But you have Ulfric and his Thu'um."

Katara shushed him. "Keep your voice down. This is the Imperial city. I'm already in hot water for telling Ulfric that I would side with him some day when this dragon threat was quelled."

Teldryn looked around the inn and at its patrons. "These aren't guards and soldiers, Kat. They're just bar patrons. I'd wager that a few of them side with the Stormcloaks as well. Trust me, if the High Queen wanted to arrest you right there she'd have done it."

Just then Dagny found their table and sat down with them.

"Ah, here's two fine faces. Are you staying the night in Solitude?", she asked, a wine bottle in her hand.

Katara and Teldryn looked at each other.

"What would one night here in Solitude hurt?", Teldryn shrugged over at Katara. "It'll be getting dark soon."

Katara shrugged back. This war seemed to rely on her next move at this point. There was no need in starting the journey to Windhelm if the caravan would need to stop at the nearest town for the night.

"We paid for the rooms so I suppose we should get our money's worth.", she finally said.

Dagny smiled brightly. "Perfect! I'll grab ya another bottle. Say, you two want to come to a real party?", she asked with excited eyes and a curious grin.

Katara looked down for a moment. "No, I shouldn't. I need to turn in so we can get an early start."

Teldryn and Dagny exchanged similar looks before Teldryn turned to Katara.

"Everything that's...happened...the past couple of days, you should relax a little tonight.", he advised tenderly. "Besides, the High Queen is providing a comfy caravan to take us to Windhelm tomorrow, we'll let them worry about the stress of traveling for once."

Dagny was still looking at Katara wide eyed and awaiting her answer. Katara looked away for a moment and then sighed.

"Alright."

Dagny led them out of the Winking Skeever and down the streets of Solitude. The sun was setting and some folks were closing shop and returning to their homes for the night. Except a few people seemed to be going the same direction as Dagny was taking them. She led them to this huge brick building. It had different colored flags draped around it, making it look warm and inviting. They heard loud music and laughter coming from the back of the building.

They walked around and back and were greeted with the sight of a huge balcony. On it were dozens and dozens of people, lots playing their instruments and singing together. Almost everyone was drinking wine or mead, and laughing with each other. Katara could smell delicious food being cooked. She noticed a few tables that were adorned with plate after plate of foods of all kind. In the middle of the balcony was a long, wide firepit that burned and cracked as the dusk hour rang in.

"Ah, the Bard's College. I haven't been to one of their parties since I was younger.", Teldryn said fondly as they stared up at the balcony.

"This is where some of the most riveting battle stories are told and where the softest of lullabies are written, lads.", Dagny said in awe as she admired the atmosphere of the party going on in front of them.

Just then a man from the crowd hollered out. He was a shorter Nord man about the same age as Dagny. He had shoulder length white hair and a black line of warpaint striped across his eyes.

"Dagny, you sultry wench!", he laughed as he approached them. "Come, enjoy the party. Enthir was just about to make his speech."

Dagny hugged him. "It's been a while, Jorn. Good to see ya.", she smiled.

The four of them made their way to the balcony. The music got louder, along with the boisterous laughter and chit chatting and the aroma of the food wafted by their nostrils.

Katara, Teldryn, and Dagny all had their drinks in hand, sipping on it as the crowd around them danced and had a good time.

A tall middle aged Bosmer man stepped to the front of the balcony with his tankard in hand. "Alright, settle down now.", he said loudly as the crowd grew quiter and turned to look at him.

"This has been another successful semester!", he said joyously. The crowd cheered, some clanked their drinks together. "I want you all to know that open enrollment for Second Seed (Spring) will be available to you all soon. I hope to see some returning faces as well as some new ones."

Jorn nudged Dagny. "I've been telling you for years that you should join up.". Dagny shrugged and took a sip of her drink.

"So for tonight, I want us all to enjoy ourselves in the company of those that brings smiles to our faces, songs to our ears...and mead to our hands!", Enthir finished as he laughed and held his drink up in the air. The crowd cheered more and the music began playing again. Everyone went on as they were.

An upbeat celtic song began playing from a small group of people in the corner. Everyone erupted in dance and laughter.

Teldryn quickly downed his wine before swiping another bottle from the table. Katara shrugged and decided to finish off her bottle as well. He noticed and grabbed her a bottle. Jorn made his way back into the crowd and began dancing along with everyone else. Dagny laughed and grabbed Teldryn by his free hand, trying to pull him into the moving crowd. He laughed and joined her as they began jumping up and down and dancing to the music.

Katara watched them and laughed as she continued to sip on her wine. Her head felt a little fuzzy, but in a good kind of way. It was new but exciting. Her body felt less tense and she found herself wanting to join the crowd of dancing people.

Dagny danced her way over to Katara and grabbed her hands, pulling her towards the middle of the balcony.

Normally Katara would've adamantly refused, but she felt the wine go straight to her head for the first time in her life. It gave her courage and made her feel less...uptight. She allowed Dagny to pull her to the crowd and the three of them danced and laughed with their drinks in hand.

When the song was over, another one quickly played after that but the three of them had stepped out of the moving crowd for a moment, catching their breaths.

"I haven't danced in years.", Teldryn laughed as he took a big sip from his bottle.

"I don't think I've ever danced.", Katara admitted, also taking another big sip. She laughed lightly and it made Dagny giggle.

Throughout the night the wine kept flowing and the music played loudly. Katara had met several people at the party and heard dozens of incredible stories and tales. The bard life was exciting and carefree, it made her envy them to some degree. People swapped poetry and beautiful songs played on their flutes and drums. Everyone was nothing but nice to her.

Katara, Teldryn, Dagny, and a few other people were all sitting around a table talking and laughing and enjoying each other's company. A beautiful Imperial woman with short black hair sat on Teldryn's lap. The two had danced together throughout the night and kept making eyes at one another.

"So I told the innkeeper 'That's not a horker, that's my wife'!", one man at the table jested, everyone cackled and sipped on their drinks.

Something in that moment hit Katara. A nasty wave of nausea built up in her throat and her head began to hurt. She set the bottle of wine down and stared off into the distance. Teldryn noticed and turned his attention towards her.

"I do think you're a bit drunk.", he whispered, laughing lightly. Katara didnt laugh. Her face was pale and almost green. She began to wobble in her chair.

"Okay, I think it's time we head back to the inn for the night.", he added as he politely excused himself from the woman sitting on his lap.

"You're leaving without me?", she asked him in a disappointing but playful voice.

Teldryn looked back at Katara, who was half falling out of her chair, then back at the woman. "I'm sorry, it's my job.", he said as he helped Katara to her feet.

Teldryn limped Katara all the way through the streets of Solitude. He had his arms wrapped around her and her feet would occasionally drag. She'd try to slur something every other step.

The inn was quiet at this hour, only the innkeeper was up and wiping down tables while the dying fires crackled. Teldryn saw the stairs leading up to their rooms and knew it would be an ordeal carrying Katara up them in this state. He decided to pick her up and carry her to her room.

Teldryn laid her gently down on the bed, pulling the sheets over her. He began to creep out of the room when she softly, and slurrily, spoke up.

"I'm sorry I took you away from - from that beautiful girl.", she stammered as her head rested on the hay pillow.

Teldryn stopped and turned to look at her. "You didn't take me away from anything. There are whores in every city, you know.", he softly replied with a quiet laugh.

"I think Sinmir had feelings for me, Tel.", she drunkenly said, her voice cracking just a bit. Teldryn paused and gently sat down on the edge of her bed. He sighed.

"I know he did. But what happened that day...that wasn't your fault.", Teldryn softly said. "Did you have feelings for him back?", he dared to ask. For a moment Katara was silent and Teldryn thought she had fallen asleep, then she softly spoke up.

"No. But I think I could have...maybe someday.", her voice was trailing off and her eyes were closed. Teldryn peeked over at her before getting up and quietly tiptoeing out of her room. He pulled her door shut and left it cracked just a little bit so the dim lights from the hallway candles could flicker through the slit.


	10. Ten: A Palace Feast

Chapter Ten: A Palace Feast

*Two Days Later, Windhelm

Saturdas, 6:35pm*

"They're weak, they're vulnerable...now is the time, Ulfric."

"Galmar, we can't just attack Solitude while the entirety of the Reach is still under Imperial control."

A maid filled Ulfric's wine glass as Galmar chewed on a steak. The long dining room table was adorned with fancy candles and plates, but it was only the two of them that ate at the table. Their dinners together were becoming more frequent with the war raging on. It gave them time to discuss strategies and plans together.

Galmar Strong-Fist has been a life long friend of Ulfric Stormcloak since they were boys. Ulfric's father was Jarl of Windhelm for many years so Ulfric was used to the niceties of the Blue Palace. However Galmar was raised in one of the poorer houses in Windhelm. Although as boys, titles and money didn't mean a thing. They just enjoyed throwing rocks over the stone bridge or playfully brawling with the other boys in the city. Times were simpler then too.

Galmar knew Ulfric like the back of his hand. Ulfric had known that eventually he would become Jarl of Windhelm, but the night of his father's passing was the only time Galmar ever really saw weakness in Ulfric. Ulfric was in his late teens when his father passed, and Galmar had rushed to the Blue Palace to console him as soon as he heard. He walked in and found Ulfric hunched over his father's body sobbing uncontrollably. Galmar didn't say a word, he just quietly slipped out of the room so he wouldn't be seen. Galmar always thought that was the day he saw Ulfric transform from a boy to a man.

When Ulfric became Jarl, he made Galmar his blade - his protector. He would've never thought he'd be heading the Stormcloak army along with Ulfric, but he gladly served him as both a true Nord and faithful friend.

"What do you suggest we do?", Galmar asked chewing his tender steak.

Ulfric sipped from his cup. "We begin taking over smaller Imperial camps in the Reach. With Whiterun's latest alliance, we've now managed to corner the Empire to the Western region of Skyrim.", he faintly smiled from the rim of his tankard.

"Aye. I'll let my men know tomorrow.", Galmar replied.

There was a long silence again as they ate, then Galmar spoke up again.

"There's been another dragon attack up in Dawnstar, so I've heard."

Ulfric lightly sighed. "I figured the Dragonborn would've put a stop to this by now.", he said as he fiddled with his fork for a moment.

"Didn't the Dragonborn come to Windhelm not long ago? Wasn't she the white haired tan skinned one?", Galmar asked inquisitively.

Ulfric smiled again. "Yes, that was her. The day she told me she was Dragonborn I admit I didn't believe her.", Ulfric set his wine glass down. "Frail thing looked like she couldn't lift a sword. But all of Skyrim heard the Greybeards summon her just days later. It's no coincidence, Galmar. She was definitely the Dragonborn."

Galmar sat back for a moment again, pondering his thoughts.

"We haven't discussed what to do in the event of a dragon attack on Windhelm...", Galmar softly said.

Ulfric shook his head. "We haven't because I thought this would've been taken care of by now.", his voice was low. "I honestly don't have a plan in the event of an attack.", he lied. The minute word spread about Alduin's return at Helgen, Ulfric had already devised a plan for what to do in that situation. He just wanted to see if Galmar could figure it out for himself. As second in command to Ulfric's army and the city of Windhelm, it was important that Galmar be on his toes.

"Well, I think it would be good to sound the bells from the temple to get the attention of the citizens to take cover in their homes. We need guards everywhere, anyone with a weapon really. Archers up in the watchtowers and along the city walls, mostly guards out side of the city though. We need to draw the creature away from the city as much as possible. We'll put more men out by the roads for that very reason. And if worse comes to worse and that doesn't work... "

Galmar trailed off, looking at Ulfric who was staring at him with baited breath.

"If worse comes to worse then you could use the power of your Thu'um.", Galmar finished.

Ulfric smiled wide but not too ecstatically. That was precisely the answer he was looking for. His faithful friend did not disappoint.

Ulfric raised his glass to Galmar. "Say, I never thought of that. Good thinking, old friend."

Morning light came on Sundas and Katara wearily lifted her head in the back of rocking caravan. She looked over at Teldryn, who was sitting next to her on the bench of the carriage reading a book titled 'The Book of Dragonborn'. He noticed her stirring.

"Ah, good morning.", he said, closing the book in between his fingers so he could look at Katara.

She grimaced at the bright sunlight that illuminated the snowy land. She was freezing cold, it was a huge shock from the humid warmth of the Reach. The mounds of snow and ice reminded her of home though.

"I guess we're nearing Windhelm.", Katara said through chattering teeth as she pulled one of the pelts lying on the bench over her shoulders and sat up. Behind her was an Imperial soldier on a brown horseback. He was donned in the Legion armor and the horse had an Imperial emblem sash thrown over it. In front of them driving the caravan with the reigns of the horse in his hands was another Imperial soldier.

Ever since that night at the Bard's College shes felt ill. She spent the past two days sleeping in the caravan, feeling drained and weary. She knew it wasn't just too much wine, but also a range of emotions stemming from the events of the past few days desperately trying to expel themselves from her being - Jarl Balgruf's swearing fealty to the Stormcloaks, Sinmir dying, meeting High Queen Elisif. Everything that could deter the prophecy was happening - or was being a part of the war tied into the prophecy? It was hard to tell nowadays. She knew so much about who she was, yet so little at the same time.

"How are you feeling?", Teldryn asked, his breath turning to steam in the chilly air.

Katara pulled the pelt closer to her neck and red cheeks.

"I'll be fine. What are you reading?", she asked.

Teldryn looked back down at his book and flashed the cover to Katara.

"Dagny gave it to me the morning we left. Said she swiped it from the College.", he faintly giggled. "It's the book of you and your...kind."

"What do you mean 'my kind'?", she asked.

Teldryn flipped open his book and thumbed through a couple pages.

"It would appear that 'Dragonborn' just means 'born with the gift of dragon blood', although they believe that to be metaphorical. It's more of a blessing bestowed upon your soul, something that was destined and foretold ages even before your birth.", he informed her while scanning his pointer finger across the words on the page.

Katara wearily nodded. "I question all the time why this 'blessing' was placed on me."

Teldryn glanced up at her and extended an open page out to her. "You should take a look at this bit.", he said as he tapped to one paragraph in particular. Katara leaned over curiously:

"Lastly, we come to the question of the true meaning of being Dragonborn. The connection with dragons is so obvious that it has almost been forgotten - in these days when dragons are a distant memory, we forget that in the early days being Dragonborn meant having "the dragon blood". Some scholars believe that was meant quite literally, although the exact significance is not known. The Nords tell tales of Dragonborn heroes who were great dragonslayers, able to steal the power of the dragons they killed."

Katara scrunched her face for a moment.

"There have been more...like me?", she asked inquisitivly.

Teldryn raised his brow and nodded slightly. "It would appear so. But not exactly like you. Looks like you're the lucky Dragonborn to be procephied."

Katara groaned sarcastically.

"There's this poem in here as well.", Teldryn said as he positioned the book up to his face to read from it.

"When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world

When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped

When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles

When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls

When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding

The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn."

Katara and Teldryn both exchanged a weary, grim look. Just then the carriage came to a halt.

"This is as far as we're going.", the Imperial soldier driving the caravan said. "We can't get too close to the city wearing our armor. They'll think it's an ambush. Windhelm is about 20 minutes down the road."

Teldryn grabbed his bag as Katara rose to her feet and grabbed hers off the carriage floor. The two of them hopped off the carriage as the driver waited for them to begin walking away before turning the caravan around to head back to Solitude.

Katara tightened her bear pelt around her back and shoulders and placed her horned iron helmet on. Her greatsword was strapped tightly to her back. Up until the past few weeks she had never carried weapons and armor before. It took some getting used to, but the iron and steep no longer felt so tiresome and heavy. It almost felt natural at this point. There were other burdens weighing her down. For the first time in her life, she had enemies - both human and...other worldly. Some of Skyrim's most powerful fantastical creatures and high ranking citizens would've grinned even slightly at the thought of her head back on the chopping block.

But she had Teldryn, the Greybeards and Paarthunax.

And she knew she had Ulfric Stormcloak. Their immediate connection was unmistakable. They both shared the gift of the Voice, as well as trauma from Alduin's attack on Helgen. They were both true Nords and held honor close to their hearts. Because of these reasons, Katara felt that Ulfric would trust her and hear her out when she asks him to retreat temporarily from the war.

Something off on a nearby hill had caught the reflection of the wintery sun. It was a giant stone statue of a man wearing heavy scaled armor, a long drape hanging from his shoulders and down his back. At his feet was a serpent looking creature coiled up dead with his greatsword through its neck. The man was muscular and had a long beard that could be seen under his scaled helmet.

Katara squinted her eyes to look up at the shrine. "Who's that?", she asked.

Teldryn looked up. "I believe that's the Nordic demigod, Talos.", he lightly laughed. "He's the one this whole damn war is about."

"Can we go up there?", she asked.

Teldryn sighed but obliged. "Okay, but let's make it quick because I am not a fan of this cold weather."

The shrine was enormous, it had to have stood over 200ft once Katara and Teldryn had reached the top and were standing in front of it. There were bundles and wreaths of flowers and berries strung about at its base. Some jewels, pieces of armor, a sword or dagger, and even some gold was also littering the stone around them.

"Truthfully I don't know much about this Talos person.", Katara admitted, admiring the height of the shrine.

"From what I understand he's the God of Man and War. He's said to be one of the most revered heros of all mankind, and Nords worship him. The Empire suddenly decided that they no longer believe he should be part of the Divines because he's half god half man. ", Teldryn replied back.

"The Divines?", Katara asked puzzledly.

Teldryn shook his head. "I forget how reclusive you Skaal are. Since the dawn of time there's been nine gods, or Divines, for anyone of any race and country to worship across the land. There's Akatosh, Arkay, Dibella, Juliannos, Mara, Kynareth, Zenthiar, Stendaar, and Talos. You Skaal are the only ones who believe in the All-Maker."

Judging by all the gifts left at the feet of Talos, he was heavily revered by the Nords despite his worship being outlawed in Skyrim.

"Well, what do you believe in?", Katara asked as they made their way back down the hill.

Teldryn carefully watched his footing on the snowy slope. "None, although if I had to choose I'd go with Dibella, the Goddess of Beauty and Love."

"Why?"

Teldryn smiled slyly. "Because of the women."

Katara rolled her eyes and they headed off down the road, Windhelm growing nearer through the snowy wind.

Windhelm was the same as when Katara had left it weeks ago. It was a constant rain of snow and ice mixed with the stone of the city. Despite the nasty conditions, townsfolk were busy scurrying along on the streets and an abundance of fires and torches lit the streets and houses. She wanted to warm up for a moment before approaching Ulfric.

Teldryn had strapped back on his helmet, he didn't want to be too noticeable as a Dunmer in Windhelm, especially when speaking with Ulfric. He remembers his time of living in the Gray Quarter when he was just starting out as a mercenary. In a lot of ways its like a small Dunmer town - it has a bar and inn, an alchemy shop, a general goods store, and around a dozens houses. Some of the Dark Elves even had stores outside of the Gray Quarter and in other parts of Windhelm. Living in Windhelm wasn't a slave ship by any means, but a lot of the older Nord citizens would often berate the Dunmer if out and about. Many times Teldryn remembers walking throughout the city and being called a "grayback" or "darkscale" in passing by someone.

But at the time Windhelm was his best option. He was young and just trying to find his bearings in Skyrim and Windhelm happened to be the closest port off the ship from Morrowind. He was able to live among his kind while in an unfamiliar land. He was able to meet new faces, although he didn't know how many of them still lived in the Gray Quarter before getting sick of it.

Katara and Teldryn made their way to the Candlehearth Hall and rented only one room. They were trying to save their money, so Katara would sleep in the bed and Teldryn in a bed roll on the floor. It would only be for a couple nights at most before they set off to meet with High Queen Elisif - that's if Ulfric agreed to the truce.

Katara went to her room and shook the snow from her pelt off into a bucket. She tried using the damp rag on her dresser to wipe away and dirt on her face and arms. Teldryn set his knapsack down at a corner table before spinning to sit in the chair next to it.

"Are you sure you don't want to rest before talking to Ulfric?", he asked.

Katara wiped away some dirt on her right cheek. "I'm sure, Tel. I feel fine. I'm clear and focused. I feel good about this."

She wasn't lying. Resting the past couple of days in the caravan had done good for her. Her mind felt refreshed and her goal seemed clearer. She was the Dragonborn, she was the Savior of Skyrim.

Teldryn nodded. "Well I'm leaving my helmet on.", he added quickly.

Katara turned to look at him. "I think that would be best.". She walked out of the room and Teldryn followed.

Ulfric's busy little steward, Jorlief, was hastily jotting down Ulfric's every word on a roll of paper. Galmar was at Ulfric's side telling him something.

"Three of our stores were hit last night. It was the same thing at each of them - broken into, cleaned out of valuables, and left dry.", Galmar said tentatively.

Ulfric sighed. "Damn. Do you think it's...them?"

Jorlief spoke up. "We have no reason not to believe it was the Theives Guild, my Jarl."

Ulfric shook his head, his cheeks red with anger. "I want more guards patrolling the streets at night. I hate a thief and I hate that bloodsucking Guild. Have the blacksmith make all three of them new locks and keys at once."

"We're already strapped for guards because so many of them are off fighting, Ulfric. We're spreading ourselves too thin as it is.", Galmar admitted sternly.

Ulfric slammed his fist down. "Damn it all to hell!"

Jorlief and Galmar both stood silent for a moment. Galmar was about to speak up when Jorlief noticed Katara and Teldryn approaching the throne.

"Excuse me, who are - "

"Dragonborn?", Ulfric interrupted Jorlief as he said with his eyes wide and sitting up in his seat.

Katara stepped forward.

"Sorry to intrude on you, Ulfric. I have to speak with you about something."

Ulfric nodded his head, Jorlief and Galmar watched on silently.

"I understand, however I'm terribly busy at the moment. Will you join me for dinner tonight in hopes that we may talk then?", Ulfric asked sincerely. He nodded to Teldryn. "And your blade is invited as well."

Katara was hoping to talk to him at that moment but she understood. Besides, dinner in a fancy dining hall did sound enticing. She knew Teldryn, as high maintenance as the Dunmer are, would love it.

She lightly bowed to him and nodded, turning and walking away. Their conversation didn't pick back up until they had left the room.

"Dinner at the Blue Palace? Bet Ulfric never thought he'd be hosting a Dark Elf at the throne's table.", Teldryn said excitedly as they walked out of the Blue Palace.

Katara rolled her eyes but smiled. "I have to admit, the thought fancies me as well."

Teldryn was grinning from ear to ear. "Well, what should be do until dinner?"

Katara glanced all around her, at the busy streets. She was feeling rejuvenated and almost giddy. She caught the tail end of Ulfric's conversation with Galmar and Jorlief. The strain of the war was getting to them as well, all the more reason to agree to the truce. It made her feel like things were on the right track. In some way, it also made her feel scared. It meant she was one step closer to the inevitable duel with Alduin.

"Can you show me the Gray Quarter?", Katara asked him curiously.

Teldryn almost smirked. "You want to see that dreadful place? Fine, but don't blame me when you're depressed the rest of the day."

Teldryn walked her down a flight of stone stairs that led down a narrow corridor and out to the lowest level of Windhelm. It felt slightly colder and there was less lighting than elsewhere in the city. Different colored banners hung outside some of the homes and businesses, Katara didn't recognize them.

Teldryn glanced up at the flags. "Those are banners for holds and cities all throughout Morrowind. There's the flag for my city - Valenwood.". Teldryn almost looked homesick in that moment.

Teldryn led her further down until they came to a business with a sign on the door that said "New Gnisis Conerclub". Teldryn scoffed.

"This is just a bar and very small inn. I didn't know it was still here.". He pushed the door open and they walked in.

The whole place was very drab. There were a few wooden tables and chairs in the corners and a few candles. No banners, no rugs, no windows, and no life. The only people in there was the innkeeper and someone at the end of the bar drinking a bottle of wine wearing a hood. There was no music bard and no music playing.

Teldryn and Katara sat down at the bar. The Dunmer innkeeper turned around and his eyes got big at the sight of Teldryn.

"Teldryn?", he asked.

"Sadri? I had no idea you still owned this place.", Teldryn replied back.

Sadri smiled and nodded. "It's been a while Teldryn. Where have you run off to? You're grown now."

"Oh, I've been here and I've been there. I'll be in Windhelm for a couple days at most.", Teldryn said.

Sadri looked over at Katara, realizing she was a Nord and blinked twice. Teldryn noticed his shock and spoke up.

"Sadri, this is my friend. She's the Dragonborn."

Sadri's eyes widened and even the stranger down the bar from them lightly set down their drink and seemed to become more attentive.

"The one from that Nord legend I've been hearing people whisper about?", Sadri asked as he leaned in. Katara nodded.

Sadri smiled wide and crouched down to find something from under the bar. "Well if I had known the Dragonborn was coming I'd have tidied up the place a bit.", he pulled out a wine bottle and set it in between them on the counter. "This bottle is on me."

"You're too kind.", Katara said.

"Thank you, old friend.", Teldryn added, raising the bottle to Sadri. Sadri smiled and turned to walk to the back room.

Katara turned to Teldryn. "So what Jorlief was saying about the Thieves Guild, do you think it's true? I thought they were in Riften?"

Teldryn sipped from the bottle before handing it over to her. "Well they're based out of Riften, yes. But they are capable of travel just like you and I. They've been known to hit cities and towns all over Skyrim. Although their Guild hasn't been doing well the past several years so it's big news if they're trying to make a comeback. This is a way to make their presence and power known."

The person at the end of the bar scoffed. It caught Teldryn and Katara by surprise, they turned to look at the stranger.

"You make them out to be killers and monsters.", a female voice said from under her hood.

Katara and Teldryn looked at each other, neither of them knew what to say. They weren't going to defend professional thieving although they've stolen before as well. The woman continued.

"There's no killing in thieving. That's their motto.", the woman turned to face Katara and Teldryn. From under her hood they could see dark black hair falling down to her breast, it was wavy and had big curls in it. They could only see from her nose down, she had pale skin but full cheeks and full lips. Her lips were a soft reddish pink color. Her voice was smooth, like the purr of a cat.

"We're not arguing with you, stranger. Word around town is that the thieves got a decent amount before splitting.", Teldryn stated.

A slow, slow smirk spread across the woman's face, though they could only see it on her mouth.

"Thief, not theives. There was only one.", she answered back.

Teldryn stopped sipping on his wine and set it down on the bar. "I personally don't care what goes on in this dreadful city, stranger."

The woman smiled again and plucked a coin purse from out of her robe pocket. She dangled it in the air. "Well you should, I pickpocketed your coin purse just a few minutes ago."

Teldryn had a dumbfounded look on his face before patting down his armor and realizing it wasn't there. He looked back at the woman.

"Very funny, but a good thief would've just made away with coin instead of blowing her cover.", he said as he got up and walked towards her, his voice slightly angry. He grab the woman by her shoulders and spun her around, her hood slipping off to reveal that she was a Breton. Bretons are a mix of Mer and human. They often have the complexion and facial features of a human, but elven ears like a Mer. They were skilled in magicka and some combat, but they were often a rare race. Her black billowy curls shaped her pale face and her eyes were an emerald green that stood out against the red warpaint she had had across her cheeks. There were two smears of warpaint under each eye. Her pointy ears picked out from her curls.

"What are you going to do - slay me?", she asked with a sly grin.

Teldryn sarcastically laughed. "A Dunmer commit a murder in Windhelm? That's a suicide mission for sure. No, I'll simply tell the Jarl while I'm feasting at his table tonight that you are the thief they've been looking for...you also stole from the Dragonborn and her blade.". Now Teldryn was the one smiling while the Breton woman turned her face into a look of anger and annoyance.

She plunged the coin purse into Teldryn's hand reluctantly. "Fine. Take it. I don't need your petty change anyway."

Teldryn swiped the coin purse and stuffed it back into a fold on his armor. He walked back to his seat and sat down next to Katara.

"I do have to give you some credit however, managing to steal from me is a great achievement. Are you part of the Thieves Guild?", he asked.

The Breton woman looked around the room. Sadri was nowhere to be found and she didn't mind telling Teldryn and Katara the truth since she planned on being long gone by the time they could ever tell Ulfric anyway. "I'm heading to Riften to join up. I was just tying up some...loose ends...here in Windhelm."

"And you belive the Guild will welcome you?", Katara asked her.

The woman's mouth curled into a smile again. "Well I cleaned out three stores by myself and stole from the Dragonborn and her blade. So you tell me."

That made Teldryn smile wide as well. He admired her fire and spirt. The woman turned to get out of her seat and flipped her hood back up.

"What's your name, Breton?", he asked as she headed for the door.

The woman didn't look back at them, she only turned her head slightly as she held her hand on the knob of the door. "Come to Riften sometime and maybe you'll find out.". Then she pushed open the door and left.

Katara's eyes widened and she took a sip from her bottle. "She was about as firey as you are."

Teldryn continued to grin. "Now that's impossible.", he said.

The evening sun had begun to set, giving the city of Windhelm a dark hue of blue in the rain of constant snow. The temperature had dropped significantly, fires and torches were ablaze in the streets and corridors. Katara was dressed in her fine blue robes again while Teldryn remained in full armor. He was still trying to lay low in front of the Jarl.

The dining table was lit with candles and dozens of plates neatly arranged filled every space. A maid had poured Katara and Teldryn two small goblets of wine. They began sipping on it, sitting there. Ulfric was nowhere to be seen.

Katara and Teldryn exchanged a quiet look. Just then they heard the voices of two men walking through the hallway behind them. They both stood to their feet. They bowed as Ulfric walked in with Galmar following him.

Ulfric waved their gestures away. "Please, Dragonborn. It is I that should be bowing to you.". He lightly lowered his head to her. Katara smiled and nodded.

"Excuse my absence. I'm afraid I've been terribly busy today.", Ulfric said as he and Galmar took their spots at the table across from them. A main hurriedly walked over and filled their goblets with wine. "You have my full attention now."

"Thank you for hosting us, Ulfric."

He nodded. "I heard the Greybeards summoning. I assume you've found your Thu'um. I can see it in your gray eyes, you have the gift and have felt its power."

Katara knew the exact feeling he was describing. It was a feeling that felt like it had always been in her being, she only had to uncover it. It molded with her feelings and using it felt natural and right. It was powerful indeed.

"I'm still learning to wield it.", she admitted slightly embarrassed. Ulfric smiled.

"What's taken me and a few select others years to master has only taken you weeks. I have every ounce of faith in your progress."

Katara nodded in gratitude and Galmar spoke up.

"We did think this dragon threat would've subsided by now.", he mentioned. Katara glanced at both of them.

"Well...I've been trying to do just that. However the war has begun to interfere. I was at Whiterun when Jarl Balgruf announced his alliance with the Stormcloaks.", she said.

Ulfric and Galmar smiled at each other. "Ah yes, that was a grand day indeed.", Ulfric said. "Balgruf and I had been discussing it weeks prior. I didn't ask him to put on the scene he did but it gives me no greater pleasure to imagine General Tullius' look during his announcement."

"It was a proud day for Nords everywhere, no doubt. But the night prior I had council with Jarl Balgruf about assisting me with a task.", Katara said.

"What kind of task?", Ulfric asked.

Katara hung her head for a moment. "A rather dangerous one. In order to progress forward with defeating Alduin, I have to confront his right hand, Odahviing."

Ulfric and Galmar looked at each other before turning back to Katara.

"I assume you mean trapping him in Dragonsreach?", Ulfric asked earnestly.

Katara slowly nodded. "Yes, precisely. You can imagine Balgruf's hesitation."

Ulfric nodded. "Indeed, but I also understand your predicament."

Katara was relieved to hear someone say that. She exhaled slightly and fiddled with her dinner napkin in her lap. Teldryn had told her that placing her napkin in her lap was considered good etiquette when in the company of someone with a high social status.

"So given all this information, I presume you're here for my assistance now?", Ulfric added, looking over at her. Two maids emerged from the hallway carrying bowls of beef soup with rolls served on the side. Teldryn grabbed his spoon and began sipping away at his.

"Actually, yes.", Katara lowered her head for a moment took a subtle breath in and out. This was the part she dreaded. "In order for me to defeat Alduin, this war has to be...halted...for a while."

Ulfric and Galmar both paused their eating to lower their spoons and look at each other. Galmar glanced between the three of them sitting there. Even Teldryn had respectfully stopped eating.

Ulfric looked at Katara with curious eyes. His defined brow was furrowed slightly, but he didn't look angry.

"Are you suggesting a truce, Dragonborn?", he asked softly. Ulfric, Teldryn, and Galmar looked at her silently.

Katara gently nodded. "I am. But you have to understand that I am only asking for the sake of the prophecy. The safety of the people of Skyrim depend on it...they depend on me."

Galmar turned to look back at Ulfric, who only stared quietly at Katara. For the first time in a while, Galmar couldn't read what was going through his mind.

Another silent moment passed before Ulfric spoke up. "I can't argue with what the gods want. But Elisif - "

"I've just came from Solitude. I've spoken with Elisif.", Katara interrupted.

Katara really had Ulfric's attention now. That caught him off guard. His eyes widened but he never left Katara's eyes. It made him a bit more intimidating.

"And...", Ulfric started.

"And she's agreed to the truce.", Katara replied blatantly.

Silence. Galmar found his words. "Ulfric, I'm not sure - "

"Shh.", was all Ulfric uttered to Galmar. His eyes never left Katara. "There's more. I can see it in your eyes. Go on with it."

Katara nodded, a bit flustered at Ulfric's ability to read her like an open book. "She wants the terms and conditions of the truce to be discussed and agreed upon at a halfway point, preferably a secluded location. No weapons, no armies. Just the two of you, her and Tullius, and myself and my blade here."

Ulfric suddenly snapped his attention to Teldryn, who was sitting silently beside Katara. "Im afraid we haven't been introduced. Who are you?"

Although his helmet was on, Katara could feel Teldryn glance at her. She subtly nodded.

"I'm Teldryn Sero, Jarl Ulfric."

Ulfric furrowed his brow for a moment. "You're an outlander, I can tell in your voice. Would you remove your helm?"

Teldryn hesitated but did as he asked. He revealed himself to Ulfric - his black mohawk, his purple tribal marks, his red eyes and pointed blueish black ears.

Galmar slightly scoffed. "A grayscale?"

Ulfric immediately snapped to Galmar. "Galmar! That's no way to speak to the blade that's at the Dragonborn's side. Dark Elf or not, you're a brave man.". Ulfric raised his goblet to Teldryn, who smiled and nodded graciously at him. "I'm sorry for the way some of the citizens of Whiterun treat the Dunmer. You have to understand that I must put the needs of my people - the Nords, first."

Teldryn nodded. "I understand. Thank you."

Ulfric turned his attention back to Katara. He stirred the wine in his goblet for a moment. "My men have been stretched thin because of the war and the fear of a dragon attack. I don't have enough recruits at this time to handle both. Alduin is the immediate threat, I see that."

Galmar looked as if he was going to protest for a moment but then he quickly sat back to think it over.

"With Elisif on board, and with us ahead in this war... I can at least negotiate.", Ulfric said turning to Galmar. Galmar nodded slowly.

"It's not how it should be, but it's how it has to be.", Galmar agreed.

Katara sighed and her and Teldryn exchanged relieved smiles.

"Galmar, have Jorlief write to the High Queen and send it off tonight. Tell her we'll meet at Yngvild. It's an ancient Nordic ruin. It sits into the ground where we can build a fire and discuss without being seen by anyone else.", Ulfric instructed. Galmar nodded and set off down the hallway to find Jorlief.

"It's only a day away. We'll leave tomorrow by mid morning, gives the courier time to get to Solitude. You and Teldryn will travel with my caravan.", Ulfric added.

Katara and Teldryn both smiled. "I can't tell you how important it is that you're helping me.", Katara said tenderly. Ulfric offered a small smile in return.

"It's not ideal, but being a leader means making decisions that you don't always like because they're correct.", Ulfric admitted. "I'm sure you're all too familiar with that feeling, Dragonborn."

Katara nodded in agreement, it was something she understood well. "Yes. And please, call me Katara."

Ulfric smiled and nodded. "Of course. We should all be heading to bed soon. We're out of here come morning."

Teldryn nodded and picked up the napkin in his lap. Katara shifted in her seat, she wanted to stay and talk to Ulfric about the Way of the Voice. But she knew she'd be traveling alongside him tomorrow. Perhaps on the journey she could talk to him.

"Goodnignt, Katara. Teldryn.", Ulfric stood up and lightly bowed at them before walking away from the table and down the hallway.


	11. Eleven: The Winged Snow-Hunter

Chapter Eleven: The Winged Snow-Hunter

Katara and Teldryn waited outside Windhelm city gates for Ulfric and Galmar. The caravan was all loaded up with plenty of bear pelts, firewood, and food.

"Where's our dashing date?", Teldryn whispered to Katara. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Just then the gates opened and out walked Ulfric with Galmar close by. They were wearing heavy bear pelts as well. She was told they'd be going to the coldest part of Northern Skyrim. Teldryn was not thrilled with that idea but he had no choice really. Behind Ulfric was a dozen soldiers.

"Alright, men. Hold things down here until I return in a couple days. For Skyrim!", he hollered out to the men as he climbed aboard the carriage. Galmar went to the reigns as Katara and Teldryn climbed in the back with Ulfric.

"Good morning Dragon - uh, Katara. I trust that you slept well.", Ulfric stammered. Katara smiled that he tried to correct himself and appreciated the effort.

"I did. Thank you. I trust it'll get colder?"

"Oh yes, much. I suggest we bundle up and stay close for warmth.", Ulfric sat down next to Katara. He placed a torch in a slot on the side of the carriage. In the front of carriage where Galmar was hung a lantern with a brightly lit candle. A second torch rested on the opposite side of the carriage.

Katara groaned. "I've seen enough snow to last a lifetime.".

Ulfric laughed lightly. "So much that even your hair is white and eyes grey as ice."

Katara smiled. Ulfric continued. "We need to discuss the terms and negotiations we'll offer the Empire."

Katara and Teldryn glanced at each other then back at Ulfric. "I'm afraid I don't know the land very well, Ulfric. I've only just traveled the length of it from Windhelm to Solitude.", Katara admitted.

"I know the lands fairly well...", Teldryn quietly said. Ulfric grinned wide as the carriage rolled on, creaking and cracking on the icy roads.

"I know Elisif is going to want Riften. I can't give up Riften - they're our closest allies to the south.", Ulfric said to Teldryn.

Teldryn scanned the map laying in front of them. "And you can bet that Elisif won't give you Markarth in return."

"So are you thinking - ", Ulfric began.

"Dawnstar.", they both replied in unison.

"And we give them Falkreath. That gives them access to the Cyrodil border, but that gives us control of the entire East region of Skyrim, the northern and southern portions of the East as well. It's an offer they can't refuse.", Ulfric finished. Teldryn nodded. "Thank you, elf."

Ulfric and Katara sat in the back of the carriage side by side just talking for a few hours. Teldryn occasionally napped on the bench adjacent to them, and Galmar wasn't much for small talk and things not concerning fighting. She was able to talk with him in depth about the Way of the Voice, including his time training with the Greybeards. They both reveled in each other's stories about seeing High Hrothgar for the first time. Ulfric actually said it was his favorite spot in Skyrim - at the top of the mountain overlooking all of the land, nothing but the sound of the wind at your back. Silence and serenity.

They both marveled to each other the feeling of a Thu'um, having it become part of who you are and ride your emotions. Katara rambled on about the first time she rang the iron gates of High Hrothgar with her Shout. Ulfric told her of the time when he was a young boy training with the Greybeards and how he accidentally knocked Master Arengir halfway across the room. Katara's eyes widened and she laughed.

Katara and Teldryn told Ulfric the story of how they met. He laughed about Katara being so forthright about hiring a mercenary. Then Teldryn and Ulfric shared battle stories, to which Katara attentively listened to with wide eyes.

It was the most Katara has talked in a long time. Ulfric offered her a sense of normality and shared in the fantasy she was thrown into. She didn't feel out of place with him. He knew and understood where she has been and who she is because he's experienced similar. Ulfric gave Katara a balance that she didn't know could exist, nor did she know she craved.

The wind and begun to whip violently around at this point. It was nothing like Katara had experienced, not even for a Skaal. She could barely see two feet in front of them on the road. It was a constant rain of snow. Everyone had their pelts fastened tightly to their backs and heads.

"It'll be getting dark soon. We need to make camp.", Galmar said. "We need to warm up."

Teldryn sat up. "If you can get us somewhere out of the wind a bit I think I can light a fire."

Galmar nodded and they began searching for a concave structure on the map. There was a cave coming up, but they didn't know if it was inhabitanted already. They had to warm up, so they decided to check it out.

Luckily it was a cave that sat about 10 feet into the side of a huge rock formation. There was a clearing inside the cave big enough for a few tents and a fire. That was all they needed. It provided shelter from the harsh blizzard outside.

The cave was dusty and the air was soggy but the four of them quickly went to work setting up camp. Teldryn sat in the middle and slowly brought a fire to life. Ulfric and Galmar were amazed. These were simple men of combat, they never see magicka in day to day routines. It was fascinating.

Katara began to unpack some of the cold meat they had wrapped, along with some vegetables. Her and Galmar stuck a roasting stick through all the foods and set it over the fire to cook. Ulfric sat down on a couple of pelts and double checked plots and points he had on a map of Skyrim. Katara sat across from him.

"What's the bear symbol for?", Teldryn asked to both Ulfric and Galmar as he threw his helmet off and ran his fingers through his hair.

Ulfric nodded to the symbol painted on Galmar's shield. He smiled tenderly. "My father was named 'The Great Bear'. When I took over, I made him my symbol. It only felt right."

"And we was a great man, Ulfric. He was loyal to his people and his land.", Galmar suddenly spoke up from the fire and said to Ulfric. Ulfric smiled genuinely at his friend. He'd been Jarl for 10 years now but still doubted himself occasionally if he was leading in his father's footsteps.

Galmar stretched and yawned as he climbed into his bed roll. "We need all the sleep we can get."

Teldryn nodded to everyone and rolled over in his bed roll as well. Ulfric went back to looking over his map and Katara decided to scoot her way in front of him.

She eyed Ulfric for a minute before he looked up at her. "You want to ask something. Go on.", he lightly laughed.

"When I spoke with High Queen Elisif, she told me her perspective on the day you killed Torygg... "

Ulfric lowered his head for a moment.

"Why did you do it?", she asked sincerely and gently.

Ulfric was quiet for a moment. He folded the map in his hands gently. "That's how things were done in the old days. There were never any political squabbles. Whoever was fit to rule Skyrim did so, and if he wasn't fit then he was usurped from the throne - by force or by death. There weren't council meetings and elections. That's how it should be...survival of the fittest.", he finished softly but with a passion in his voice. Katara shifted in her spot around the campfire.

"Why did you leave Elisif alive then?"

Ulfric slowly nodded his head, he searched for the words. "Because she's weak.", he simply said. "She wasn't ready nor fit to be High Queen. That made the Empire vulnerable. I wasn't going to sit on the throne in that moment knowing the Empire would send Tullius and his troops to Skyrim. This war has to end before I sit upon the throne."

"Besides,", he added. "I pity Elisif. Perhaps when we win this war I'll spare her and give her the chance to surrender the throne. At the end of the day she is mostly just an unfortunate bystander caught in the middle of...life.", he solemnly finished.

Katara looked up at him. "Her weakness...it was the first thing I noticed too."

"Some people give themselves away easily. Like you."

She snapped to attention to him and furrowed her brow. "Me?"

He laughed and nodded. "Yes. You're scared, as you rightfully should be. You have the weight of Skyrim on your chest. But it also motivates you and gives you purpose. You don't always say what's on your mind, but you should - because you're worth listening to."

Katara stared at him wide eyes and speechless for a moment. He was correct. She stammered and regained her voice.

"Well...you don't always have faith in yourself. This war scares you too.", she finally replied back. He smiled and admittedly nodded his head.

There was a silence and all that could be heard was the cracking of the fire behind them.

Ulfric cleared his throat. "Good night, Katara."

Katara lightly bowed her head as he got up to walk to his bed roll. She curled her knees up to her chest and huddled around the fire for a few moments. She sat in silence, hoping and praying that tomorrow went smoothly.

It was cold, damn cold. Teldryn actually complained once or twice that he began to feel ill because of it. He was laying down on the bench of the carriage swaddled in bear pelts. Ulfric and Galmar seemed to be handling it the best. Living in constant freezing conditions made them accustomed to the temperature, although they were still bundled up tightly. It was an endless barrage of snow. Visibility was so low that Katara could barely make out Galmar's figure ahead at the reigns. Ulfric was looking down at his map. He hollered to Galmar.

"10 paces ahead you'll want to veer off the road and head east. 50 paces from there is Yngvild.", he said as he folded up the map and stuck it into a knapsack.

Galmar nodded and did as he said. Moments later the carriage ventured off the road. It became much bumpier and the snow beneath them was denser. The jostling rocking caused Teldryn to jerk awake. They entered a wooded area. Around them were tall skinny pine trees caked in snow. The trees managed to shroud them from the heaviest of the blizzard's torrent winds, but the snow still fell lightly around them. Their torches and lantern attached to the carriage swung and flickered as they trudged through the forestry.

In a very small clearing they came to a circle on the ground, no more than 10 feet in diameter. It was a circular room that was built into ground, sitting in the cold ground about 10 feet down. There was a small set of stone stairs at the ledge of the room, it led down underneath.

Galmar brought the carriage to a halt and everyone jumped out. Ulfric stood over the edge of the circular room.

"This is Yngvild, an ancient Nordic ruin. It used to be a burial site but now it's just a pit. It should provide adequate shelter from the forest and the weather.", he said looking down into the pit.

Galmar went to work unloading the firewood from the caravan. The four of them went into the pit. Teldryn helped light the fire again, slowly bringing it to a steady blaze. He sat by the fire for a good minute to warm up, his teeth chattering.

Katara and Ulfric picked up loose limbs and leaves, tossing them over the edge and out of the pit to make more room. Galmar tied up the horse to the nearest tree and stuck a carrot in its mouth. He pulled a pelt over their supplies in the back of the carriage.

Galmar walked back down into the pit. He placed his hand on his sword and pulled his pelt away to show Ulfric the shining steel blade. Ulfric pulled out his sword to show him as well.

"I trust the two of you have your weapons on you?", Ulfric asked Katara and Teldryn.

Katara placed her hand on her greatsword and Teldryn's sword glimmered against the fire at his hip. The four of them knew that while they didn't have armies at their backs, they needed to be prepared for anything. Their meeting today was a risk...for everyone.

Katara glanced lightly around her. "Now what?"

Ulfric sheathed the sword back at his side and pulled his blue robes over it.

"Now we wait."

And wait they did. For an hour, then two hours. None of them spoke much, Katara assumed they were all individually picturing their own versions of what's to come. Still, all around them was silent, aside from a slight wind that would brush the top of the pit.

"What if she changed her mind? What if this was a trap?", Galmar suggested anxiously. Teldryn made his way to the top of the stairs.

"Have faith, my friend. If they know what's good for them, they'll be here.", Ulfric replied.

A faint cracking of twigs and snow could be heard above the pit.

"What do you see?", Ulfric asked Teldryn in a low voice. Teldryn was quiet for a moment, staring into the heavier wooding.

"A bear...and her cub.", he replied back in a hush. The three of them silently made their way up the stairs to get a peek at the bears.

About 10 feet in front of them a massive brown bear emerged into the clearing from the forestry. Trotting carefully behind her was her cub, no more than a couple months old.

The mother bear was aware of the three Nords and a elf not far from her. She wanted to hurry along to the other side of the clearing and back on their way in search of shelter and water. Her meandering cub swayed in her footsteps, veering from time to time.

The cub took one look in the direction of the pit and perked his ears up when he saw them all silently standing there. The curious cub cocked his head and inched away from his mother and closer to them.

Galmar noticed this and slowly placed his hand on his sword. With a slow "shing" he began to unsheathe it when Ulfric gently placed his hand on the the pommel of Galmar's sword, advising him not to.

Ulfric then slowly stepped out from the stairwell and crouched his way towards the cub. He knelt down and held out his hand. The mother bear took notice at this point and snapped her head to focus on Ulfric reaching for her cub. Her instincts wanted to charge, but she decided against it - watching them very closely.

The bear cub inched his way closer to Ulfric, he sniffed the air around his fingertips. Ulfric smiled at the cub.

The cub gave his palm a quick lick then jumped back. He and Ulfric looked at each other for a moment before the cub backed away and joined his mother's side again. Katara swears she saw Ulfric and the mother bear exchange a look in that moment. Then the cautious and smart mother escorted her young son across the clearing and into the woods.

Teldryn let out a breath. Katara looked on with wide eyes. Hunting back on Solstheim consisted of just fox, deer, rabbit, and some elk and fish. She never dared to get near a bear, much less a bear and her cub.

Ulfric turned to smile at the others who were staring at him. "What? They're beautiful and feared creatures."

Just then another cracking came from the woods. It was a slow cracking, the one cold wood makes against thick snow. The four of them stared at the noise, their eyes wide. The sound of hooves trudging over broken leaves and limbs echoed closer. A dim light emerged from behind the trees and grew nearer.

Finally they saw them. The figure of a man and a woman sitting down started to take shape through the snow flurries. It was High Queen Elisif and General Tullius riding atop their carriage, the reigns in Tullius' hands. He brought the carriage to a stop on the other side of the pit. They were both wearing heavy pelts and robes trying to shield themselves from the dangerous cold. The General climbed off to help Elisif hop off her seat. The two of them stood by the horse for a moment, not moving, staring at their group of four on the opposite side of the pit.

Ulfric and Elisif locked eyes. Their expressions were solemn and cold as stone. The General began walking over to them, Elisif following timidly at his back.

Everyone was silent, no one quite knowing what they should say. Finally Elisif spoke up.

"Well, Dragonborn...you have us here.", she sternly said to Katara.

"Let's get this over with.", General Tullius said. Ulfric only nodded and everyone stepped down into the pit.

The six of them stood around the burning fire that sat in the middle of the pit. They all shared glances among each other.

Elisif spoke up again, speaking directly to Ulfric. "Before we continue, I want to make one thing absolutely clear."

Everyone turned to look at her. She was frightened, Katara could sense it. She assumed Ulfric could as well. But she tried to best to feign intimidation.

"If this truce is broken before the dragon crisis is quelled, know that war niceties are over at that point. We will not hesitate to storm Windhelm. As I assume you would not hesitate to take Solitude. Breaking this truce is a death wish - for both of us and many citizens. Are we clear?", she finished, her voice serious as it could be. Ulfric wanted to grin but he knew she wasn't bluffing this time. He knew she had an army and a General who would be most thrilled to bring her Ulfric's head on spike. Besides...she was right. He had no quarrels seizing Solitude if the Empire didn't uphold their agreements.

"I would expect nothing less.", Ulfric simply replied. "So I'll keep this simple. We want Dawnstar in exchange for Falkreath."

Elisif and General Tullius looked at each other for a moment. Tullius looked back at Ulfric with an odd look on his face.

"Why would you want to give the Empire control of the border?", he asked speculativly. "You realize that allows for more Imperial troops to cross into Skyrim?"

Ulfric did know that. He anticipated it, in fact. But the General was forgetting that with Whiterun's alliance, Dawnstar would seal half of Skyrim under the control of the Stormcloaks. The Empire couldn't move more troops in until the truce was over, but removing Imperial forces from Dawnstar as part of the truce granted Ulfric and his men an advantage before the war resumed.

But General Tullius was a smart man. He was a seasoned war vet, he knew the games and the plots. Being an Imperial he was not native to Skyrim, but damn if he didn't quickly learn almost every nook and crannie of the providence. His loyalty to the Empire was unmatched, he was a man faithful to his duty - it was only a shame his loyalty fell with the wrong side.

"The risks I'm taking concern only myself and my cabinet, General.", Ulfric said as he stared down Tullius.

The General looked at Elisif, the two shared a look. Katara assumed if they were smart they had also discussed body language and terms the entire way here. Elisif looked as if she almost nodded.

"Fine. But Stormcloak forces aren't allowed to move in until after the truce has ended. Dawnstar city guards will remain at the city only.", General Tullius replied. He had seen Ulfric's plan.

Ulfric looked back at Galmar. The two shared the same look. He turned back to the General.

"If all Imperial camps are pulled out of Stormcloak holds.", he agreed.

General Tullius nodded his head. Elisif pulled out a roll of paper and a quill from her heavy robes. She inched her way closer to Katara.

"I hope this is what you want, Dragonborn.", she bleakly said to her. Elisif handed the paper and quill to Teldryn. "Elf, write down the terms discussed here so we may sign the agreement."

Teldryn obliged and began penning away everything that was discussed. He outstretched the roll of paper on the side of the stone wall and gingerly held out the quill for someone to take. Galmar took it first, he signed his name at the bottom. Elisif gave Ulfric a long look before taking the ink and signing her name. Ulfric signed, followed by General Tullius. Teldryn signed his name and handed the quill to Katara.

Only one thought was running through her mind in the moment when she had the ink in her hand and five sets of eyes on her: please let this work.

She signed her name. General Tullius took a breath. "Henceforth, the Empire recognizes the truce agreed upon today by High Queen Elisif the Fair of Skyrim, General Icarus Tullius of the Empire Legion, Ulfric Stormcloak of the Stormcloak army, and Galmar Stone-Fist of the Stormcloak army. This truce commences this moment and ceases when the agreed upon dragon crisis has subsided.", he recited in a stern professional tone.

Elisif and Ulfric exchanged another intense look before everyone walked up the steps and out of the pit. Everyone stepped towards their carriages.

Elisif turned back around to face Katara. "So Dragonborn, shall we do this?"

Everyone paused in their tracks and turned to look at Elisif, even Ulfric was confused. General Tullius looked concerned for a moment.

"Your Grace...?", he softly asked.

"Pardon?", Katara asked her as she turned away from her carriage.

Elisif's expression remained unchanged. "This dragon you wished to summon...do it. Here."

Everyone looked surprised. Teldryn spoke up for the first time. "This wasn't agreed upon..."

General Tullius made his way beside Elisif. "My Queen, if such things were possible then I don't think we need to be anywhere near a dragon."

Elisif held her hand up to Tullius. Her expression turned almost angry. "I just put this war on hold for you, now it's your turn to do your part.", she spoke to Katara.

Katara stammered for a moment, her stomach sank. Ulfric spoke before she could.

"Come now, Elisif. This is ridiculous.", he said.

Elisif slowly walked towards Ulfric. She was eye to eye with him. "This whole thing is ridiculous, Ulfric. But that's where we're at right now.". Ulfric only looked back at Katara, who had wide eyes and an open mouth. Teldryn stood beside her looking equally as surprised.

Katara glanced around her. "I - I don't quite know what to - "

"You can't make her do this here.", Teldryn said.

"She must.", Elisif replied. "If you're really the Dragonborn."

Katara saw all eyes on her. She felt like she didn't have much of a choice. Tensions were so thick here as it was, the last thing she wanted to do was worsen that. But there were far too many trees around for her to do it in this very spot. She looked all around her.

"I need more room. I know you haven't seen one of these things up close yet...", she replied.

Elisif looked a little uneasy, in her mind she imaged the sheer size of a dragon up close. Ulfric pulled his map out of his robes and unfolded the dingy paper.

"There's a clearing a mile or two north.", he said.

"Are you sure about this, Kat?", Teldryn asked softly as the six of them made their way deeper into the woods.

Katara sighed. "No. But what choice do I have? You saw Elisif, she was likely to lob my head off if I protested any further."

"So it's better to have us all killed by Odahviing?", he quietly replied but with nervousness in his voice. Katara hung her head for a moment. She already feared for her own life when meeting Odahviing, now Elisif was asking her to endanger the lives of Skyrim's most high ranking figures as well.

If that's what the High Queen ordered, then so be it.

"This has to be done...one way or another.", Katara replied bleakly.

Eventually they reached the edge of the treeline. Ahead of them the blizzard raged on, and absolutely nothing could be seen but a blanket of white snow in abundance in front of them. Openess. Katara felt like she was on the edge of Skyrim itself. She turned her attention towards everyone else.

"I want you all to stay here. Stay just inside the tree line.", she began walking out into the vast white openess. "If things take the wrong turn...run."

Teldryn began following her. She abruptly turned back to him. "No. That means you."

A concerned and surprised look flashed across his face. "Absolutely not. We're in this together." He was serious as the snow was white. Katara slowly nodded her head. She understood. Her and Teldryn continued walking out into the blizzard.

The wind was furious and visibility was a mere 5 feet, if that. The freezing cold flurries felt like ice pelting her tan cheeks. She came to spot far enough away, she glanced around behind her at Teldryn. He stood there staring at her. Her loyal friend...her best friend. He watched her next move. She subtly nodded to him before turning back to face the emptiness in front of her.

She spread her legs shoulder width apart and placed her hands tightly together in front of her chest. She remembered the words of the Greybeards and Parthurnaax. She focused her mind, closed her eyes, took a deep breath...

"O...dahVIING!", she Shouted with power into the blizzard. She felt the tingling vibrations radiate from her throat to her chest.

All was silent. Ulfric, Galmar, Elisif, and General Tullius looked on from the tree line. Ulfric almost smiled when he heard the sweet sound of Katara's Thu'um. It was a sound unlike any other he'd heard before, and he never expected to hear someone other than himself or the Greybeards use it.

Nothing. Katara glanced back at Teldryn anxiously, almost concerned. Had she not done it right? Was this whole thing in vain? Teldryn looked concerned as well.

Then came the faint familiar sound of flapping that she knew all too well at this point. It was one that made her stomach churn and heart race. Katara frantically looked around her but the heavy blizzard showed no mercy for their vision.

A loud thud on the ground erupted several feet in front of them, although they still couldn't see. Elisif almost lost her balance as the ground shook with the impact.

Silence still. Katara stared into the emptiness. She was trembling, both from the below freezing cold and what was in front of her. Slowly emerging from the raging snow was a head and a long neck. His scales were red as fire and he had long protruding blue horns. The closer his head got to Katara, the more she could see his blue eyes. He raised his head and peered down at the two of them, staring wide up at him. Odahviing.

Katara and Odahviing looked at each other for a moment. He lowered his head down, almost eye level with Katara, to get a better look at her. The familiar smell of sulfur grazed her nose.

"Well...if it isn't a Dovahkiin.", he purred with a low bellow from his long throat. His voice was deep and profound, like Parthurnaax.

Teldryn almost gasped at Odahviing, his hand never left the pommel of his sword.

"I felt it was a worthy challenger that called upon me.", Odahviing added.

Katara took a deep breath. "You are Odahviing, right hand to Alduin?"

Odahviing seemed to almost cock his head. "Geh...and you are the...menacing Dovahkiin.", he said almost mockingly. "And her eager pet.", his big blue eyes flicked over to Teldryn, who still had his hand on the sword at his side.

"I was advised by Parthurnaax to - "

"Parthurnaax?", Odahviing abruptly interrupted her. His voice heightened. "He's still alive? Of course he is..."

"He's helping me.", Katara sternly said.

She thought she almost heard a low laugh rumble from Odahviing's throat. "Geh, because he was not strong enough at Alduin's side."

"And how do you know you are?", she asked back in a hurry, staring him in his bulging blue eyes.

Odahviing paused for a moment before his face turned into a snarl, he was taken off guard by this small woman's words. "It takes fire to speak to a powerful Dov that way."

"With such power why haven't you struck me down yet?", Katara asked back.

Odahviing returned to his smug looking prowess. "My honor keeps my rage at bay."

"Why did you meet with me then?"

Odahviing lifted his giant red head to the sky for a moment. "My eagerness to meet a willing opponent in battle compelled me. Surely that's why Parthurnaax advised you carry this out. He knows our pride is our weakness."

"Why do you side with Alduin?", Katara asked him genuinely. The big dragon peered over at her.

"Because my honor commands it, Dovahkiin."

"And my honor commands that I destroy the World-Eater."

Odahviing quietly laughed. "Prophecies can be altered, honor can waver. Because it is written does not mean it is so. Only you can make that happen."

Odahviing was right. It was up to her to fulfill the prophecy.

"What will it take for you to abandon Alduin's regime?", she asked bluntly.

Odahviing was surprised at her question. He cocked his head up and looked down at her. "Alduin may be...tyrannical at times. But he is not much better than Parthurnaax's lordship."

Katara stepped forward slightly. "Then don't fight with Parthurnaax. Fight alongside me."

Odahviing's head snapped back down to meet Katara's eye level. He hollered out.

"And what makes you powerful enough for me to shift loyalty? You can barely speak our tongue! Suh...Fa Los!", Odahviing Shouted towards the sky. A loud clap of thunder emitted from his throat. Katara and Teldryn winced under the intense sound.

Suddenly the blizzard began to subside. The heavy rain of snow fell fewer and fewer until the last flake fell to the ground in front of Katara's feet. All around them was silent and still for the first time, only the occasional wind wafted by.

The visibility had regained normality allowing Ulfric, Galmar, High Queen Elisif, and General Tullis their first real glimpse at Odahviing from the tree line. Elisif staggered back a bit from the sight, she almost let out a gasp. Everyone stood there wide eyed, Ulfric looked more amazed than frightened.

Katara and Teldryn were amazed at Odahviing's power, he harnessed the weather with his Thu'um. Katara stood there for a moment, gathering her thoughts. She decided to approach the dragon's pride with pride itself, by acknowledging the true power of his Thu'um.

She fell to her knees and knelt before Odahviing.

Everyone looked on in confusion and amazement. Odahviing cocked his head back surprised at her gesture. He sat there for a long moment looking at her with her head bowed respectively. Finally he nodded to her in acknowledgment.

"Now, greet me not as mortal...but as the Dov that's in your soul.", he bellowed.

Katara slowly rose to her feet and clasped her hands tightly at her chest.

"Fus...Ro Dah!", she Shouted, hitting Odahviing square in his neck. He winced back for a moment when the force hit him. Then he turned his long neck back towards Katara and bowed to her.

She smiled up at him, not a lighthearted on but one of equal intimidation, equal respect, and equal acknowledgment of each other's powers. She felt an immediate understanding with Odahviing from that moment on. The feeling of oneness with her inner dragon shook her to the core.

"Ah, you are indeed a Dovahkiin.", Odahviing said humbly. "I have longed for the days of freedom. Thousands of years I have stood at the side of Alduin - I grow weary."

"Then leave his regime and be free.", Katara replied almost motherly.

Odahviing lowered his large head for a moment. "Alduin does not allow for one to simply 'leave'. Geh, he will always hunt me. He must be stopped entirely."

"So you will help me?", Katara asked in a hopeful tone. Odahviing looked down at her.

"Geh, Dovahkiin. But Alduin will know. He will seek vengeance on me, but on you as well. You have proven yourself mightier than he is to his right hand. He's surely already on the hunt for you.", Odahviing replied bleakly.

Katara glanced around, suddenly worried. "What should we do?", she asked him.

Odahviing thought for a moment. "I have to face my own fate with Alduin. My...betrayal...will no doubt cause more of his regime to abandon him. Geh, you must hide for the time being."

Katara and Teldryn looked at each other. Teldryn, who knew the land quite well, asked the dragon "Where would be safe enough from a World-Eater?"

Odahviing inched his large arms closer to the two of them. "There's a small house in the south eastern region of Skyrim. I've passed over it many times when hunting these lands. I believe it to be abandoned. Rock formations shelter it, even from the sight of a Dov."

Katara nodded slowly and thought it over. She looked back at Teldryn. It appeared to be their best option until they could further devise their next move. Katara looked back at Odahviing.

"I will take you there, Dovahkiin.", he added. "And your pet."

Katara and Teldryn both shared the same look - amazement and disbelief. Katara slowly walked forward and placed her hand on Odahviing's cheek, she rubbed his scales, which were cold and rough but a beautiful bright shade of reddish orange. She swore she almost heard him purr.

Then she glanced back to the treeline where the other four stood, still in awe at the sight before them. Her and Ulfric locked eyes and exchanged a look, but it was something they both immediately recognized. Their eyes spoke the same thing to each other - I'll be alright.

Odahviing lowered his long neck to the ground, Katara took a deep breath and proped one foot up and hoisted her torso onto his neck. She swung the other leg over and mounted him. She could feel his slow breathing beneath her palms.

Katara looked over a Teldryn, who looked terrified. She extended her hand to him and he hesitantly took it. She helped him get up and he took a spot right behind her.

"Once you soar through the skies, your jealousy of the Dov will only grow. The world through our eyes is indescribable.", Odahviing lowly said as he readied himself to lift off the ground.

Ulfric, Galmar, Elisif, and General Tullis all watched in amazement as Odahviing flapped his mighty wings and lifted them up into the air. Their eyes were wide and their mouths hung open. Katara and Ulfric shared another look - I'll see you again.

Odahviing flapped until they were high above the ground, then he stuck his neck out and began flying forward. When he lurched forward Teldryn had wrapped his arms around Katara's waist and closed his eyes, all while making a grimacing face. Katara couldn't help but giggle. She was feeling the complete opposite.

She felt at peace. A deep burning giddiness welled up inside of her. At the same time, diving through the air currents and the clouds felt oddly familiar. It felt like something that was almost natural.

Odahviing gracefully and powerfully propelled himself through the Skyrim clouds. Below them were smaller mountains and hills, the tops of trees, portions of snow, and grassy lush plains, and even the occasional town. The sun was beginning to set, and Katara felt like she was eye to eye with the sun resting on the horizon's line.

She took a deep breath in and closed her eyes, feeling herself fly through the skies of Skyrim while the wind whipped through her snow white hair...Teldryn cowering and clinging to her.


	12. Twelve: The Thief of Riften

Chapter Twelve: The Thief of Riften

After some time the landscape below them changed from cloudy snow slopes, to lush green plains, to now a sea of yellow and orange forestry dotted with small lakes and ponds. Katara remembered the fall-like terrain from her travels with Teldryn. They were entering the Rift.

Teldryn had stopped shaking but he didn't open his eyes. Katara however was taking in every moment and every detail. The feeling of the wind whipping through her hair, the smell of the clouds, the change in the temperatures, and effortlessly gliding through the skies. It was euphoric. She indeed envied the power of the dragons, and understood why they were so prideful of their gift of flight.

Odahviing scanned the trees and rocks until his eyes landed on a certain point. He slowly descended and Teldryn once again tightened his grip around Katara's waist. Even she had to brace her hands on two small fin-like scales that protruded from his nape. He weaved and dove until he gracefully descended down in front of a house.

Around the house sat tall rocks, it couldn't be seen from the road and nobody would dare venture there from the road. This was the corner of Skyrim, not even dragons frequent the area. Odahviing lowered his neck and allowed for Katara and Teldryn to dismount themselves and regain their footing.

The house looked decent on the outside. It was wooden and had a covered front porch. It was dusty and dingy, certainly looking like it hadn't been tended to in years. Two large windows stood beside the front door. There was a quarry stone chimney sticking from the top of the house.

"This is the safest place I can find, Dovahkiin. I apologize for it's appearance.", Odahviing said as they stared up at the small cottage.

Teldryn had begun to calm down and started to walk towards the front door. "A bit drab, but it could be a lot worse. At least the weather is pleasant." He looked around him at the setting sun and the autumn trees.

Katara shrugged in agreement. "It'll be nice not being in an inn and sharing a bathroom with ten strangers." Her and Teldryn lightly laughed. "Where will you go now?", she asked turning to Odahviing.

"Alduin is surely looking for me. He's no doubt already heard whispers of my betrayal. I must deal with him accordingly, as the Divines see fit.", he replied back as he loudly turned around and faced the sky. "You have to stay here until then. Should you need me, Dovahkiin...all you must do is call upon me."

Odahviing lifted his head and flapped his wings a few times, slowly lifting off the ground. He hovered in front of Katara and Teldryn for a moment, kicking up dust from the rocks with each powerful flap.

"Until we meet again, Thuuri.", he bellowed.

"Thuuri?", Katara curiously asked looking up at him.

"It means - Lordship.", he turned in the sky and flew away, still kicking up dust as he gained height and could no longer be seen between the clouds.

"Yes...we could make this quite comfy.", Teldryn said as he looked around at the open room and floor in front of him.

Inside the house was an empty room, about ten feet in length. There was a dusty stone fireplace with cobwebs on it, along with a table and set of three chairs that sat off to the side against a wall. On the other side from the living quarters was a space that was just big enough for a bed and dresser. Finally in the front of the living quarters stood a door that led out to a small bedroom. Teldryn insisted that Katara take the bedroom while he chose to sleep outside in the room opposite the living quarters. She didn't protest him. There was already a small bed in her room along with a dresser and a night table. Teldryn compiled a mental list of things they needed in order to live comfortably for...however long was needed.

"All I need for the bed is some hay and cheap fabrics.", Teldryn said as he scanned the portion of the house where his bed would go. He then scanned panned over to the fireplace. "And a cooking pot for the fire. A broom wouldn't hurt."

Katara nodded as she walked out of the door and looked over the side of the porch. Down the side of the mountain and several miles down into the valley stood the city of Riften. Lights from businesses and streets and housing flickered softly as the sun set.

"Riften is the closest place to buy that stuff, correct?", she asked.

Teldryn nodded as he joined her at the porch and looked down into the valley. "Yes, perhaps in the morning we can go down there and get them. Looks like we'll need to become accustomed to Riften until we find out how long we're going to be here. We need somewhere to buy supplies and food, Riften is our only option. This truly is a desolate little corner of Skyrim."

"Desolate can also mean safe.", she added softly.

Teldryn nodded in agreement. He went to the fire place and started a burning flame in his hands, stirring the embers on the dusty firewood. "There's a couple carrots and a potato in my knapsack if you want to get them for me. I know it's nothing glamorous but it'll get us by until we head to town in the morning."

Katara reached for his bag and pulled out the two carrots and a potato. She found some thin sticks by the porch and skewered the vegetables. Teldryn took them and set them over the fire to roast.

The two of them shared a quiet meal by the crackling fire as nighttime set in. They pulled two chairs from the table and placed them around the fire. Katara had finished her food and was sitting in the chair with her knees up her chest, just staring into the fire. Teldryn was picking at his plate with one of the small skewers.

"Thinking about Ulfric?", he asked her.

Katara looked over at him and scrunched her face.

"Don't be coy. I saw the look you two exchanged before we took off on the back of a damn dragon.", he pressed.

Katara unfolded one leg back down to the ground and crossed her arms across her chest. "Ulfric is someone unlike I've ever met before. We...understand each other on a level that goes deeper than others because of what we share and what we've experienced." She sighed lightly. "He can read me like an open book, and I can read him. There's no doubt a...connection."

Teldryn was a little surprised at her answer. She didn't try to shrug it off but almost openly admitted that she felt something with Ulfric. He raised an eyebrow.

"When will you see him next?", he asked.

Katara looked down. "I'm not sure. It's not a priority now - this is." She nodded to the house around them, eluding to the prophecy in itself. "I feel like I've been at this for years, chasing the same rabbit." She seemed distant for a moment when saying that.

Teldryn lightly grinned. "Only we're chasing a dragon."

Mid morning came and Katara and Teldryn made their way to Riften and stood inside the city. It was a small wooden city that was built on the side of a lake. A small canal ran under it. It was two tiers. Where they were at lined small wooden streets and shops. In the middle sat a well that was dug to the lower tier beneath them where the canal and some housing lie. Around the well were some vendors selling food, jewelry, weapons, and potions. All the townsfolk were out and about.

"I thought you said Riften was a corrupt city? It looks very quaint and quiet.", Katara said as she glanced around them.

Teldryn looked around as well. "It's just what I've heard. It does look quiet."

They found a building that had a sign hanging outside the door that read 'Pawned Prawn'. They assumed it was a general goods store and decided to pop in. The shopkeeper, a middle aged red haired man, joyfully lit up when he saw them come in.

"Ah, welcome, travelers. Take a look around. If you see anything you like then give me a shout.", he boasted from behind the counter. Teldryn walked to one side of the store and Katara walked to the other, both to examine the shelves for the supplies they needed. Katara found a cooking pot but Teldryn said they'd have to pick up the hay at the stables on their way out, and that it wouldn't hurt to get a horse for supply runs.

Another customer walked in as Katara and Teldryn scanned the shelves for anything else they needed. The customer and the shopkeeper started quietly chatting.

"I've got a broom and the cooking pot, anything else?", Katara asked Teldryn as they met in the middle with their belongings in hand.

"I have a few candles and rugs here. You know, make the place feel more homey.", he replied back motioning to the small rugs draped over his arm. Katara had to admit that having somewhere safe and quiet to lie her head at night was a good feeling, even if it was because they were hiding. They'd been traveling constantly and staying at inns with several other people for weeks now. Her role as Dragonborn required her to be on the move, either running from Alduin or trying to plot his inevitable defeat. She didn't feel ready for that yet. She knew she was rapidly learning and becoming formidable, but she didn't feel ready yet to face Alduin. Perhaps having to hide wasn't such a bad thing right now. This had to be done the right way this time.

Just then a loud crash erupted behind them and the shopkeeper looked on in horror and anger at the customer standing over the broken gold vase that sat in the corner of his shop.

"What in blazes was that for?!", he exclaimed as he took a coin purse out of his robes and flung it at the customer. "Tell Brynjolf to take his damn money and I don't ever want to see another one of you in my store again!"

The customer caught the coin purse and quickly turned towards the door. Katara and Teldryn's eyes widened when they realized it was the Breton woman from Sadri's bar - the thief of Windhelm. Her long black curls hung in a low ponytail that was draped over her shoulder.

The shopkeeper rushed over to his broken gold vase and knelt beside it, fingering through the shards of it. Teldryn and Katara exchanged a look. They were running low on coin they both knew. They took advantage of the poor shopkeepers despair to sneak their way out of the store with the stolen items.

"Was that the same woman from the Gray Quarter?", Katara asked once they were outside and had turned a corner.

"It appeared to be.", he replied back carrying the items. "Let's go to the inn and get some food and wine to take back."

The Bee Barb was a decent looking Inn. There were several patrons enjoying their drinks and food and conversation. Katara was wide eyed when she saw two Argonians running the inn, one sweeping and one behind the bar.

"Don't just stare at them.", Teldryn snapped at her. She jerked towards him.

"I've only ever met one Argonian before, and he wasn't very friendly."

"Of course not. Like I've told you before, most Nords aren't very welcoming of anyone that isn't like them. He probably just assumed you were like most.", he replied as they walked to the bar.

The female Argonian behind the bar turned her attention to them. "What'll it be?", she asked in a raspy voice, her green scaley fingers tapping on the counter.

"Two bottles of wine and some venison chops, thank you kindly.", Teldryn answered her.

The door to the Bee Barb flew open and in stomped the shopkeeper of the Pawned Prawn with two Riften guards at his side. He scanned the room til his eyes landed on Katara and Teldryn.

"That's them!", he hollered as he pointed them out to the guards. The guards rushed over to the bar.

"You're under arrest for stealing, you can come along with us and make this easy", one guard said to him before placing his hand on his sword. "or do this the hard way."

Teldryn and Katara looked at each other, as well as everyone else in that inn. They both sighed and turned in their seats to face the guards. They complied.

Nearly an hour later they were sitting in Riften jail behind a set of iron bars. They had been stripped of their belongings, money, and weapons. It was stored in a chest on the other side of the room...a guard sat next to it.

Katara stood in front of the bars, resting her hands in between the cold slats. "We should've just paid for it.", she solemnly said.

Teldryn was sitting on a small wooden bench in the back of the cell, his torso slouched and his arms folded across his chest. "It'll be alright. We'll stay in here for a couple hours then they'll release us. It's petty thievery."

Katara turned to face him. "Have you been to jail before?", she asked accusatory.

He shrugged. "Once when I was younger. Killed a chicken in a town. Apparently that's very frowned upon. Spent a few hours in jail and paid a small bounty."

"But we don't have enough money to pay them off.", Katara reminded him despairingly. Just then the door to the room opened and a woman walked through and began whispering to the guard. They turned to look at their jail cell then the guard stood up and left the room. The woman walked over to the jail cell door and placed her hands gently behind her back, peering in at Katara and Teldryn.

The woman looked to be middle aged. She had short black hair that was braided at the sides of her head and down to her ears. Her lips looked to be a darker shade of purple and they were pursed in a skeptical look. Her eyes were sharp and narrow and she wore fine green robes.

"So...you two are the thieves?", she rhetorically asked them.

"Look, we're really sorry and we can return the stuff. I'm the Dragonborn and this is my blade with me.", Katara gently told her through the bars.

"I don't care who you are. All I care about is if you can make me rich.", she replied.

"Excuse me?", Katara asked.

The woman walked a little closer to the jail cell. "It's not often that we have someone try to muscle in on our turf. That can be a dangerous move amongst thieves. But a part of me almost admires you..."

Katara and Teldryn exchanged a confused look. The woman continued.

"That's why I'm asking for your help."

"In exchange for what?", Teldryn sharply asked.

"Your freedom.", she quickly replied back.

Katara and Teldryn fell silent again.

"I respect a fellow thief, and I think perhaps the two of you will prove useful for a job I need done.", the woman went on.

"We're not thieves - ", Katara spoke up.

The woman raised her eyebrows. "You stole from the Pawned Prawn, did you not?"

They both nodded softly.

"Then you're thieves. And if you help out our newest recruit in a heist tonight, then you're free to go. You'll earn a small cut of the spoils.", she said smartly.

"No, we'll just pay our bounty and walk out later tonight.", Katara told her. The woman made a sly smile.

"My dear, I fear you do not know who I am. I'm Maven Black-Briar. What I say goes in this city. I can see to it that you sit in that cell for a very long time."

Katara and Teldryn bleakly looked at each other.

Maven had a sly smile on her face. "So I suggest you go down stairs in front of the barrel with a lantern on it later tonight."

She spun on her heel and walked back to the door, motioning for the guard to come back in.

"Until then you'll sit in this cell of course.", Maven added as she walked out of the room and the guard sat back down in the chair.

Katara sat down on the bench next to Teldryn with a hard plop. Her mouth hung open.

"This is insane.", she angrily said but in a hushed tone.

Teldryn shrugged his shoulders. "Listen, we're low on coin, and if this is who I think we're dealing with then there won't be any bloodshed. Let's suffer through tonight and buy as much supplies as we can with our cut and stay in our damn house from now on."

"Agreed.", Katara said in a heavy sigh.

"I believe this is it.", Katara said as they stared at a large wooden door dug into the side of the stone wall. Off in the corner was a barrel with a single lantern on it, just as Maven said.

"If things get too...rowdy...in there just let me do the talking, alright?", Teldryn advised her. He was right unfortunately. She wasn't good at talking her way out of situations like Teldryn was with his quick wit. Katara nodded and they opened the door. They walked down a long winding tunnel that was stone. It was muggy and smelled like low tide. Perhaps they were underneath the canal somehow.

Suddenly the faint sound of boisterous laughter echoed through the tunnel ahead of them. They exchanged a look and kept following the noise. It led them to an underground looking tavern. It was rather bleak but there were fires and a bar a few people sitting around tables or at the bar. Some of them were wearing matching brown leather outfit. It was brown pants, brown shirt, and a hood sticking off the back that could be slid up or down. There was a small yellow emblem in the corner of the brown leather long sleeved vests, it was of a diamond shape with a circle in the middle of it. One of the men at the bar noticed them slowly walking in and stopped socializing to look. The gazes of the other patrons followed.

Katara and Teldryn didn't really know what to say. Eventually a tall red headed man wearing the brown leather armor stepped forward. He had blue eyes and jaw length red hair.

"So, you're the two Maven was talking about. Let's go somewhere to talk business.", the man said as he led them further into the tavern to a tall dresser in the corner of the room. All the patrons watched them move from one side of the room to the other. Katara and Teldryn exchanged a confused look when they were just standing in front of a dresser while the man fumbled with a key in his vest. He opened the dresser and stuck his key into a tiny lock on the inside of the dresser, popping out a false back panel and exposing a doorway. He led them through the hidden door and into a cistern. It felt damp and muggy and there was a large pool of canal water in the middle of the room. On the outskirts of the room were beds, chests, a kitchen, target dummies, a desk, and a living space.

"Welcome to the Thieves Guild, lads.", the man turned to them and said. He then faced the room and all the other members of the Guild walking around. At least 15 of them. "Gather around, gather around.

"Who are these two do-gooders, Brynjolf?", one member said as they all approached.

"These are the two thieves from Boris's shop this morning. They're going to help us out a bit by tagging along with the whelp tonight.", Brynjolf answered. "That's all you need to know."

"So what's our...mission?", Katara asked him.

"Just up the canal a mile or two is a little home called Goldenglow Estate. A rich old Bosmer lives there, he's been a long standing client of ours. We...move stuff around for him in exchange for hefty compensation. Lately he hasn't paid up. Here, meet the recruit who you're accompanying."

A woman with a hood stepped forward and removed it. Katara and Teldryn almost laughed. It was the same woman from Windhelm and from the Pawned Prawn. The three of them just stared at each other without saying anything.

"This is Fayleen. She's been acting as debt collector while still learning the ropes being the whelp that she is.", Brynjolf said.

"I told you I don't like being called 'whelp'. I can handle myself. I don't need help from these guys.", Fayleen said sharply as her eyes darted over to Katara and Teldryn.

Brynjolf laughed slightly. "As a matter of fact, these two are paying off a debt of their own by going along with you. Just clean out that old man's safe at Goldenglow and I may just start throwing high value jobs your way to see what you're really made of."

Fayleen looked upwards and sighed for a moment before nodding. She walked away towards one of the beds off to the side, presumably hers, and unlocked the chest at the foot of the bed. She picked up a few lockpicks, a silver ring, and a vile of white potion. She closed the chest and locked it back and pulled her hood back over her black curls.

"Let's go.", she said to Katara and Teldryn.

They were a quarter of a mile outside of Riften city gates and they still had not said a word to each other. Finally Teldryn broke the silence.

"Looks like we were able to find out your name after all.", he said. She scrunched her face.

"What?"

"Back in the Gray Quarter you wouldn't tell me your name.", he replied back.

"I didn't think it was important."

Teldryn scoffed lightly. "But stealing from me was..."

She lightly grinned. "Like you've never stolen anything before. Isn't that why you were arrested? My distraction wasn't enough for you?"

"Why were you smashing his vase in the first place?", Teldryn snapped.

"Like Brynjolf said, I'm still new so I'm just collecting petty bounties right now. Boris obsessed over that damn vase. It was the only way to get him to pay up.", she smiled again. "Worked, didn't it?"

Fayleen looked behind her at the two of them. "What are you two doing in Riften anyway? I thought you had some Dragonborn stuff to do.", she added.

"We live up the mountain a ways. Just laying over for a while in the hold.", Katara answered.

"Well, I'm sure this isn't how you imagined you'd be spending your vacation.", she said sarcastically.

Just then a rustling came from the shrubbery ahead of them, the sound of snarling and growling followed. Teldryn unsheathed his sword and Katara drew her greatsword. A large red eyed wolf stepped out of the bushes and walked its way closer to the three of them, his fur was black as the night and he was foaming and drooling from his muscular jaws.

Fayleen was in between the two of them and the wolf. Teldryn went to leap in front of her but she had extended her palms and began forming an ice crystal in her hands. She formed a large sharp crystal and flung it at the wolf with fury. It hit the wolf square in the shoulder with a loud crack, piercing it's fur and cutting to the bone. It cried out and stumbled back, falling to the ground and dying. Katara and Teldryn lowered their weapons.

"Impressive.", Teldryn admitted in light of her magicka. He then held out his palm and formed a burning fireball in his hand, showing her.

Fayleen nodded. "I figured being a Dunmer you were a spellsword. I tell you what, the next wolf is yours so we can see those flames in action."

Teldryn and Fayleen smiled at each other but then she quickly scrunched back her face and turned to keep walking.

Fayleen had halted Katara and Teldryn several feet away from Goldenglow Estate, a nice wooden home with dimly lit lanterns outside. The three of them crouched down in the bushes.

"The side window is probably our best way in. I'll sneak in and unlock the front door for you two. The old elf is bound to be asleep at this hour.", Fayleen instructed them in a whisper. They saw her slip the silver ring out of her vest and onto her ring finger.

"What's that for?", Katara whispered back.

"I've enchanted it with a spell to muffle the sound of my movement slightly. Helps when trying to be silent.", she responded back looking down at the ring.

Fayleen crouched her way to the side of the house and pried open the window very gently. Katara and Teldryn tiptoed their way to the front door and waited off to the side. Fayleen managed to silently crawl through the window and roll to the floor, resuming a crouch. The house was dark, a good sign that the owner had indeed gone to bed. She carefully slunk her way to the front door and turned the lock quietly. She opened it and met Katara and Teldryn.

"You follow me to the safe.", Fayleen instructed as she nodded to Katara. "And you stay close to the old elf's room in case he wakes up. You seem know some magicka - stall him by whatever means necessary...without killing him.", she then told Teldryn. The two nodded their heads obediently and snuck their way into the house behind her.

Fayleen carefully led them through the living quarters and then up the wooden flight of stairs. They made sure to be extra cautious on the creaky steps. At the top of the staircase stood a bedroom and a long hallway to the left of it, a second room at the end. Fayleen motioned to Teldryn and he crouched just outside of the Bosmer's bedroom, the elf snoring just inside the open room. She led Katara to the left down the hall and into the extra room.

"What are you trying to find here?", Katara whispered to her. Fayleen had opened up her vest and plucked a lockpick out of her breastpocket and was hastily but meticulously jamming it into a lock on a safe in the corner.

"Anything of value.", she replied almost distractedly as she carefully thumbed the lockpick around, a clicking sound coming from within the lock. One jerk too quick and the lockpick snapped in half. Fayleen muttered something profane under her breath and pulled out another lockpick from her vest. She went to work on the lock again, masterfully twisting and prodding the lock until a successful 'click' was heard.

Fayleen opened the steel safe door and peeked inside. There were two emeralds, a fat coin purse, a gold ring, and a fine silver goblet. She smiled at the inventory and eagerly stuck her hand inside to gather it all. She handed the goblet to Katara to carry while she stuck the smaller stuff into a light bag on her back. She gave Katara a signal and began crouching out of the room.

"Aren't you going to lock it back so he doesn't realize he's been robbed?", Katara asked her in a whisper, motioning to the safe's open door.

"We want him to know it was us. It sends a message from the Theives Guild that we're to be respected.", she answered back hurriedly. "Now go."

They both crept their way back down the hall and found Teldryn waiting for them by the elf's door. Katara's greatsword on her back began to teeter over in its sheath due to how she was crouched. She quickly jerked up to keep it from slipping off and dropped the fine silver goblet onto the floor with a loud 'clank'.

The Bosmer man stirred in bed and then shot up. "W - what? Who's there!", he hollered out through slowly wakening eyes.

"Oh piss, Dragonborn!", Fayleen snapped through clenched teeth. She sprinted down the hallway and eyed Teldryn, waiting on him to do something. Katara followed her, hastily picking up the goblet from the floor.

Teldryn thought for a split second before extending his hand out at the Bosmer who had spun around in his bed and was about to stand up at this point. A light green ball of light formed in his hand then the same green aurora began forming around the elf, engulfing his figure. He suddenly went still in the spot he was in at the side of the bed. He wasn't able to talk or move. Teldryn's face was that of one deep in concentration. His brow was sweating lightly as he focused all his energy into the green orb in his extended palm.

"Go. Now!", Fayleen yelled at Katara as they scrambled downstairs. Teldryn backed away and followed them in a hurry, the green aurora still around the Bosmer.

The three of them closed the door and sprinted into the bushes, crouching their way through the small hills and rocks til they hit the main road. They were out of breath. When they were a safe distance away Fayleen swiftly turned to Katara, snatching the goblet out of her hand.

"You could've cost me this gig if we would've been caught!", she yelled at her. Katara shrugged apologetically and watched Fayleen move towards where Teldryn was, who was nursing his left wrist and still sweating on his brow.

"What did you do to that guy?", Katara asked him. Teldryn massaged his wrist and glanced over at her.

"A calming spell. It's harmless and only last for a few minutes, but it's just...taxing.", he said wincing as he spun his wrist around and flexed his hand. "You're changing someone's body, their mind for a period of time."

Fayleen grabbed Teldryn's hand and examined it. Then she placed one of her hands over his wrist. A light glow emitted from her hand over his wrist and he winced slightly before becoming less tense.

She removed her hand and Teldryn spun his wrist around, nodding at her healing aid.

"Better. Thank you.", he softly said to her. She nodded and continued to walk ahead of them back to Riften.

"Ah, so I take it the job is as good as done?", Brynjolf asked Fayleen in his thick Nordic accent as the three of them walked unto the cistern where most of the Thieves Guild stayed.

Fayleen threw Brynjolf the light bag carrying the safe's items. He caught it and peered inside before giving her a smile.

"We managed.", Fayleen irritatingly said as she turned to glance at Katara and Teldryn. Brynjolf pulled out three small coin purses and handed one to each of them.

"Good job, whelp.", he said. Fayleen rolled her eyes. "Maven said when you returned that you two were 'free' to leave Riften. Guess I'll be seeing you around, lads.", Brynjolf added to Katara and Teldryn before turning away and walking towards another Guild member.

"Are you coming back to Riften?", Fayleen asked the two of them as she pulled her hood down to her nape.

"If so, I don't think we'll ever steal again.", Teldryn said to Katara wearily but lightly laughing. Katara giggled back.

"Well, you wouldn't make a bad thief.", Fayleen admitted to Teldryn in seriousness. "You on the other hand could use some practice.", she added looking over at Katara.

"That's because I've got enough on my plate as it is...", Katara said annoyed.

"I could help you, you know.", Fayleen mentioned softly. "You could come along with me on small runs and get a cut. I know you need coin, everyone does."

Teldryn looked over at her a second then at Katara. He sighed. "If we have to stay here for a bit then it's wise to have some money for supply runs.", he pointed out to her. "I could go with her while you stay hiding at the house as much as possible."

Katara mowed over the thought for a moment. It wasn't a bad idea. She knew Teldryn could handle himself and as much as it would make her go stir crazy, she had to stay hidden. Being out right now was a risk in itself. Thankfully they were underground.

"It sounds logical.", she finally said. Fayleen smiled lightly.

"Come to our house tomorrow morning with a horse, or don't show at all.", Teldryn told her.

She nodded and turned to walk away.


	13. Thirteen: Dark Business

Chapter Thirteen: Dark Business

*The Next Day, Windhelm

9:15am, Tuesdas*

Ulfric stood on the creaky wooden floor and looked around the dingy bar. There was a leak coming from the corner of the room of the second floor. The air smelled...odd. It was chilly inside as well. Sadri stood behind the bar and remained silent as Ulfric examined his small bar and inn.

"Add New Gnisis Cornerclub to the list.", he instructed Jorlief, who stood at his side with a disgusted look on his face and a scroll and quill in his hands. He obediently scribbled the store's name into the roll of paper.

Sadri lightly bowed at Ulfric and he smiled back. "We'll be in touch, Sadri.", Ulfric said as he and Jorlief turned to walk out of the store.

"I have to say that I'm surprised at your efforts to clean up the Gray Quarter, my Jarl.", Jorlief tentatively said once they were outside and walking the drab cold streets of the Dunmer portion of Windhelm.

"Perhaps the Dark Elves are not what we've always perceived them to be. I recently met one in my travels that was a fearless warrior and loyal hired help to the Dragonborn. Besides...as long as they're in Windhelm then they're my citizens as well."

Jorlief nodded in acknowledgment. "That was the last store, my Jarl."

"Good, let's get back then.", Ulfric replied as they headed back for the Blue Palace.

Galmar was waiting for them by the throne when they returned. He had a disapproving scowl on his dark face.

"So you really want to give those grayscales better living?", he asked Ulfric. Ulfric stopped in his tracks for a moment.

"It's not going to hurt anything, old friend. You fear over nothing.", he calmly replied. Galmar shook his head lightly.

"The Great Bear wouldn't have - "

"My father would have done what's best for his people, all of them.", Ulfric stopped Galmar angrily through clenched teeth.

Ulfric and Galmar stood silently in front of each other for a moment. Jorlief became uncomfortable and politely excused himself out of the throne room.

"Besides, my hands are tied with this truce. It gives me more time to tend to my city.", Ulfric finally said as he went and sat down on his throne. Galmar turned to face him.

"The Dragonborn has made an impression on you.", Galmar said.

Ulfric glared at him. "Katara and I have met only twice."

"Aye, but I heard all the stories and clamoring from you two the ride to Yngvild. I saw the looks.", Galmar said almost irritably. "She made you put the war on hold, now you want to do right for her aid's people?"

Ulfric's tone turned to anger and annoyance suddenly. "I put the war on hold because it was the logical thing to. I'm cleaning up the Gray Quarter because they are my people and they deserve a leader that cares for them.", he snapped.

Galmar frowned his face further. "I feared when this day would come. You've got a soft spot for this woman, now you're throwing honor and tradition out the window."

"That is enough!", Ulfric yelled as he slammed his fist down on the hard stone throne arm. Even his two guards at the door winced.

Galmar stepped back but didn't unharden his face. He wasn't as scared of Ulfric as the rest of his armies and Jorlief. Growing up with Ulfric allowed them to form a brotherly bond. But this time there was no sibling love between the two of them.

"I am the one who makes the decisions around here. You forget that you are not just my friend but my council as well, and I will seek your guidance when it's necessary. What I'm doing is preserving honor if you could only just see that, brother.", Ulfric said as he slowly calmed down. Galmar still had an ugly angry frown on his face, he turned to walk out of the room without saying a word.

Ulfric watched him leave the room then he hung his head and sighed. He glanced over to the left wall at the large Stormcloak emblem draped elegantly on it and stared at it.

Katara wearily stretched in her hay bed. The bright sun shone through the wooden slats in the roof above her. Her white hair was a tangled mess, an indication of a good night's sleep. It had felt like months since her last one. She had gotten used to spending the night in a crowded loud inn and getting up early to travel somewhere else the next day. Her pink belted tunic was slightly wrinkled as she got out of bed.

She trudged into the living area and looked around the room. She noticed a small note on the table.

"Gone hunting. Stir the fire and cut some vegetables when you wake.

-Teldryn"

Katara set the note back down on the table and looked over at the slow burning embers in the firepit against the wall. She walked over and picked up the long iron rod in the corner and proded the blaze, stirring it a bit. Then she went over to the cooking pot laying on the floor and picked out the leftover carrots that Teldryn had packed. She sat back down at the table and began slicing the carrots with a butter knife, the only one that was found in the house when they arrived. Just then the faint sound of a horse snorting could be heard outside, accompanied by the soft clicking of hooves. Footsteps made their way up the stairs and a light rapping came from behind the door.

The sudden break in silence startled Katara before she sat up and walked to the door.

It was Fayleen wearing brown robes and a hood over her black curls. A horse, agreed upon last night, stood tied up to the post on the porch. She looked Katara up and down.

"Morning. May I?", Fayleen asked as she motioned inside the house. Katara let her in and Fayleen glanced around the home for a moment. She nodded and raised her brow.

"Not bad for a hide out.", she said before sitting down at one of the chairs next to the table. "Where's the Dunmer?"

Katara sat down across from her and went back to cutting her carrots. "Teldryn is hunting."

"So that's his name?", she repeated.

Katara abruptly stopped cutting the carrots. "What is it with you two and names?"

Fayleen shot her a glance and looked away. Katara sighed lightly.

"Listen, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot.", Katara added after a few moments.

Fayleen shrugged and lightly nodded. "I suppose. I just have no tolerance for those who can't do their job."

Katara slammed the butter knife down on the table. "Being a thief is not my job! Saving Skyrim is."

Fayleen looked down and lightly nodded in agreement. "You're right, I've been unfriendly to you. Don't take it personal, I don't like most people. The fact that I'm sitting in your home right now speaks volumes."

"Have you gotten any family in Skyrim?", Katara asked gently.

Fayleen stopped tapping her foot on the floor and looked up at Katara. "I ran away when I was a teen. Haven't seen my parents in years.", she solemnly said.

Katara looked down at her knife and sliced carrots, unsure of what to say to her. "Why did you leave?", she asked.

Fayleen almost shifted uncomfortably for a moment. "Because I wanted to see Skyrim. I wanted to live."

Katara nodded, she understood that. "Was joining up with the Theives Guild part of your plan?"

Fayleen lightly smiled. "I learned quickly that traveling and surviving in this land sometimes requires you to take from others. I also learned that I wasn't half bad at getting away with it."

"You are good. Forgive me last night when I almost blew the heist for you.", Katara replied back genuinely.

Fayleen shrugged. "It was your first run, could've happened to anybody." The two of them exchanged a smile.

"I saw your magicka on the wolf. Ice crystals are extraordinary.", Katara said in awe from last night.

"I picked it up on my journeys through Skyrim. My father is a Thalmer though, so magicka flows a little more naturally for me.", Fayleen responded proudly.

"Do you think you could...teach me a little bit of magicka?", Katara asked softly. Fayleen looked a little surprised at first.

"I don't know how well a Nord would pick it up but we can try sometime.", she responded. Katara could sense in her voice that she was trying to be friendly.

Just then the door to the house opened as the knob jiggled. Teldryn walked through with two rabbits and a brown sack over his back. He removed his helmet.

"I see you remembered the horse.", Teldryn said to Fayleen. She spun around in her chair to face him.

People always looked at her crazy when Fayleen told them she ran away from home as a teenager. A young girl surviving in Skyrim by herself was almost a suicide mission. She wanted more out of life and chose a hard path, but now she's a little older than Katara herself andshe's never regretted leaving. She's been on her own for so long that she never stopped to make friends or settle in one place for too long. She was from the city of Markarth and her parents were silversmiths. They made and sold jewelry in the city. Fayleen didn't have a rough life, in fact her parents had a decent amount of coin and they lived in nicer housing. She never had to want for anything. But it wasn't satisfying to her and more importantly it wasn't the life she wanted for herself. So in the early morning hours when she wrote a heartfelt goodbye letter to her parents and slipped quietly out the window, she knew she was plunging herself into an entirely new life...and she never looked back.

Katara could read people well, and although Fayleen was a tough book to open, she could still see past her rough exterior. She wasn't keen on letting people in, perhaps she felt scared to make friends or have ties with any one person or place. She came off as rude and distant to most people but Katara thought it was a defense mechanism. But there was one thing Katara couldn't help but notice with Fayleen that was peculiar. The moment she saw Teldryn, she lit up.

"I'm a woman of my word.", Fayleen replied to him with a small smile.

Teldryn set the rabbits down in the cooking pot to skin. He took off the brown bag from his back and opened it to show Katara.

"Juniper berries. They're tasty. Found a patch of them not far from here.", he said as he plucked one out and popped it in his mouth. He then moved back over to the cooking pot and pulled out the two limp rabbits. He tossed one to Fayleen.

"Skin that for me, would you?", he asked as he pulled out his blade and went to work on his rabbit. Fayleen pulled out her sharp dagger and began skinning it meticulously.

"Fayleen said she'd teach me a bit of magicka, Tel.", Katara said as she watched them flay the kills.

Teldryn raised his eyebrow. "Have you decided what school of destruction you'd like to learn? You know - fire, frost, shock, etc."

Katara sat back for a moment. She hadn't really thought about it. "Frost, I think."

"Ah, my favorite.", Fayleen said without looking up from her work. "Perhaps we can start with some basics after tonight's run."

Teldryn finished skinning his kill and looked up. "Speaking of which, what's the plan for tonight?"

Fayleen set the rabbit and her dagger down on the table and cleaned off the bloody blade with the end of her brown robe. "Brynjolf is actually giving me my first real run tonight. It's high profile - and high risk."

Teldryn looked at her intently. "How high risk are we talking here?"

"Sibbi Black-Briar lives in a secluded house not far from here. He cut ties with Maven several weeks ago, choosing to no longer do business with her or the Guild. We need to go in there and...send him a message...that Maven is not to be forgotten.", Fayleen said.

Katara and Teldryn looked at each other. "Is Sibbi Maven's brother?", Teldryn asked.

Fayleen nodded. "Aye, and we need to clear his joint out for her."

Katara finished cutting her carrots and placed them in the cooking pot before hanging it on the rod over the fire. "Maven seems to run Riften with an iron fist."

"You'd watch your tongue if you knew what was good for you.", Fayleen sharply replied. Katara and Teldryn were a little stunned as they turned to look at her. Her eyes were wide and face stone cold.

"You just come along on runs with me here and there and let the Guild deal with Maven. She's a dangerous human. Stay away from her. Do you understand?", she said seriously with sincerety. She was staring right at them.

Katara and Teldryn both nodded, a bit confused, but didn't press the issue any further or bring up Maven's name again.

Fayleen left their house shortly after to prepare for their run that night. Katara and Teldryn ate their rabbits and carrots, they had the juniper berries as a treat afterwards. It all tasted wonderful and it was enjoyed in the safe silence of their small home. As the sun began to set, Teldryn buckled up a light knapsack and strapped it to his shoulder.

"Bring home some coin.", Katara told him with a laughing smile as he headed for the door.

"I believe that's the first time you've referred to this place as 'home'.", he replied with his hand on the knob. Katara looked around the dingy house for a short moment.

"It's getting there.", she said. Teldryn walked out of the door with a smile.

He rode the horse to Riften as the sun had just set for the night. He stood outside of the door to the Theives Guild and waited against the wall with his arms crossed against his chest. Finally Fayleen walked out.

"You decided to show, huh?", she asked him as they walked up the stairs and headed through Riften.

"I need the coin and you need the help.", Teldryn replied back, one thumb hooked around the strap of his knapsack.

"Help? I never said I needed help.", she said back matter of factly.

Teldryn shrugged and lightly smiled. "Fair enough. So how far until Sibbi's home?"

Fayleen glanced around them at the townsfolk heading to their homes. "Shh, don't speak of that name while we're still inside the city.", she said to him in a hush, peeking all around her. He fell silent quickly until they walked out through the city gates.

Bugs and insects could be heard around the canal and bushes that ran alongside the road. The air felt comfortable, it was cloudy and dark...perfect for a couple of thieves. The leaves in the trees swayed in the light breeze and the half moon shone in the sky overhead.

"My, Maven really must be a monster if the very mention of her surname makes you quake.", Teldryn finally picked up their conversation.

"I've only been in Riften a short amount of time but I've learned how sadistic and feared Maven Black-Briar is. That's what makes this particular run high risk. Her own brother is so scared and hates her so much that he has a couple hired mercenaries that protect his place.", Fayleen replied a little solemnly. Teldryn raised his brow.

"I thought the Theives Guild didn't kill?"

She shot her eyes over at him. "If it means protecting our own asses..."

He shrugged and nodded. "So why work for an organization orchestrated by Maven?"

"Trust me, the Guild doesn't like her either. I hear whispers in that cistern at night. They're just afraid as well.", Fayleen replied with a shiver in her voice. She suddenly stopped in her tracks and snapped towards Teldryn. She unsheathed her sharp dagger and held it in his face. "This conversation stays between us, understand?"

Teldryn winced back for a moment out of shock but kept his compsosure. He lightly belly laughed. "You think you're the first person to hold a blade to my throat?", he drawled with a smile. "Don't fret. I have no one to tell."

Fayleen lowered her dagger and lightly rolled her eyes, she turned back to the road and sheathed her dagger back at her hip. She smiled a bit.

"So what about you, why travel with Katara - the Dragonborn?", she asked, kicking small pebbles as they walked under the dim moonlight.

"Simple, she hasnt dismissed me yet and neither of us have died.", he said bluntly. "I'm a mercenary, it's my job. But I've been fortunate enough to form a close friendship with Katara as well. I knew her before she knew who she was - the Dragonborn. She's my friend and I believe in her.", he replied back earnestly. Fayleen looked at him almost tenderly.

"That's very noble of you. I've never really had a friendship with anyone. I've always been on the move.", she said back genuinely with head looking down slightly.

"Me neither.", Teldryn replied honestly with a smile. "But I recommend you try it out sometime." He and Fayleen smiled at each other before she quickly walked ahead and him and crouched in the bushes, falling silent and still. Teldryn hurriedly did the same in her footsteps.

Up ahead of them down a small dirt road they saw lights flickering dimly through the tree line - porch lanterns. The wind still whipped lightly through the trees.

"Sibbi's place may be crawling with mercenaries, but there is one loophole to getting in.", Fayleen said as she motioned off to her side further into the treeline until she stopped in one spot. She stomped the ground lightly a couple times until a hollow sound reverberated back. She pushed leaves and dirt aside until a hole in the ground covered by a piece of wood could be seen underneath their feet. Fayleen looked down at it with a small smile.

"In a tunnel?", Teldryn asked disgusted. Fayleen shook her head at him.

"Don't be a milk drinker. In you go.", she said as she lifted the piece of wood off the hole and gently placed it off to the side.

After crawling through the damp tunnels, they smelled ripe and were a bit soggy. Fayleen gingerly slid the piece of wood that blocked the hole above her. She peeked under the lid and saw a mercenary sitting in a chair at a table across the room. He had his arms crossed over his chest and he appeared to be nodding off, a large greatsword hung over his back.

Fayleen motioned to the bow on her back and then pointed at the wooden lid for Teldryn to hold it slightly open. She quietly removed an arrow from her back and pulled out a green vile from her brown vest. She removed the cork of the vile carefully with her teeth and softly dipped the tip of the iron arrow into the green looking liquid. The excess dripped back into the vile and Teldryn held the arrow while she twisted the cork back into the poison and slid it into her vest again.

Fayleen readied her arrow in her quiver and cocked her head to stare down the arrow with one eye aimed at the mercenary.

A quick zip through the air and she managed to land the arrow directly into his broad chest. The mercenary shot up in his seat for a moment but then fell completely still before he could emit any screams. His body convulsed silently for a moment and his eyes turned red and watery, his face changing to different shades of red. Finally the mercenary went limp in his chair, spit dripping from his chin. It was a silent kill.

She readied another arrow, one that wasn't poisoned, into her quiver and held it low as she peered further out of the hole and scanned the room. She didn't see anyone else. Teldryn followed her up and out, crouching behind her. He then slowly pulled out his sword and kept a low burning flame in his other hand. They both moved across the length of the room and Teldryn quietly pickpocketed the items off the dead mercenary - just a few septims and a single key. He inspected the key and handed it to Fayleen. They made their way into a room down the hall that had a large chest in the corner.

Fayleen tiptoed to the chest and used the key Teldryn found to unlock it quietly and quickly. Inside were at least six bags of money, a few gold jeweled rings, and a long very sharp jagged dagger. It was almost black in color, its blades shined in the dim candlelight on the table next to them. Fayleen carefully handed the dagger to Teldryn, along with three bags of coin. She stuffed the rest in her light brown bag on her shoulder.

Fayleen gave Teldryn the signal to go and they began walking out of the room and back towards the front door. At the other end of the hallway sat another room that was smaller. The door was cracked a little bit and a very bright light illuminated the room in between the slats. Fayleen and Teldryn were curious of it. She decided to lead them down closer to the mysterious room since it was on their way out.

They could see the shadows of candles flickering against the wall the closer they approached the door. She opened it up a little more and stepped in. Fayleen and Teldryn lost the breath in their lungs at the sight of a sacrificial circle of candles with nightshade flowers and a book titled 'Hail Sithis' lying in the middle. The circle of dimly lit candles represented the circle of life. The bouquet of nightshade represented death and was often presented at funerals. And the book was an ode to Sithis, the demonic god of emptiness and void. Fayleen and Teldryn knew immediately that this ceremony was called the Black Sacrament - and everyone knows that performing the ritual summons the Dark Brotherhood.

The Dark Brotherhood, a group of skilled assassins that worship Sithis and make a living killing people. They have a method to their madness. One must perform the ritual then meet with an assassin from the Brotherhood, paying them a decent amount of coin of course. No one quite knows how the Dark Brotherhood finds out about the Black Sacrament being performed. Some fables say Sithis himself hears the wishes of death from vengeful mortals and passes it along to the Brotherhood - that's how strong their ties with the void are. A short few days later the intended target will suddenly take a nasty fall, become struck with a terminal illness, turn up with a sliced throat in bed in the dark of night, or vanish mysteriously and die. The Dark Brotherhood does not care about a target's social status, their wealth, their family, or their importance - they kill with a smile on their face. In some rare cases children have even been targets, in which the Brotherhood still carried out their duty precisely and heinously, without so much as a wince. They are extremely reclusive and even the Empire has been hunting them for ages and haven't been able to find their whereabouts in Skyrim. Once the Black Sacrament has been performed and the assassin has been paid, a poor soul will surely die shortly after.

Fayleen stared at the sacrificial circle for a moment before whispering to Teldryn. "We need to move. Quickly."

They spun around and came face to face with the second mercenary. He had an angry scowl on his face and held his sword high at his chest. Fayleen gasped and Teldryn quickly extended the newly acquired jagged dagger and plugged it into his chest while his arms were pulled up. The mercenary made a bloody gurgling sound in his throat and slowly lowered his weapon before it dropped out of his hands and made a loud "clank" on the wooden floor. He fell backwards when Teldryn yanked the dagger back out of his chest, blood coating its edges.

Both Teldryn and Fayleen stood still for a moment after the mercenary fell to the ground, listening to see if anyone in the house would come running at the sound of his sword falling to the ground. All was silent, no one else was around. The two of them checked around corners and upstairs and found nobody else home.

"Sibbi isn't even here?", Fayleen whispered to Teldryn.

"Let's not be here when he returns.", he replied back looking down at the two dead mercenaries. They turned towards the door and left.

Teldryn and Fayleen not only left Sibbi Black-Briar's house, they ran from it. The sight of the dark magicka that is the Black Sacrament is a chilling scene for one to stumble upon. They both shook it off the further down the road they went.

"I wonder who Sibbi has siced the Brotherhood on - do you think it could be Maven?", Fayleen thought out loud.

"She certainly has enough enemies that it wouldn't surprise me.", Teldryn replied.

"We must'n breath a word of this to Maven or Brynjolf, anyone at the Guild. I don't need tangled up in Dark Brotherhood business...and I don't want you to be either.", Fayleen ordered as she stopped and spun around, pulling her dagger on Teldryn like she did on the way there, and pointing it in his face. He winced back again but this time his face turned to one not completely lighthearted.

"You really do have to stop doing that.", he said a bit annoyed. "And you have to learn that as long as you want me around, you have to trust me.", he replied seriously.

Fayleen lowered her dagger and her face unhardened from stone to slightly softer. She laid down the dagger and placed it back at her hip. "I will work on that. I promise.", she replied heartfeltedly. Then she slipped her brown bag off her shoulder and unfastened it, pulling out three of the six coin bags they stole. She tossed them to Teldryn. "Your cut, as promised. Keep the dagger too. You use it well.", she finished softly.

Teldryn looked at it with a smile and plucked it in his knapsack.

"You're not so bad a thief.", he said with a smile as they strolled down the dark road.

"Well...thank you.", Fayleen softly mustered looking back at him with a smile.


	14. Fourteen: A Night on the Town

Chapter Fourteen: A Night on the Town

*Three Days Later*

A couple days passed and Teldryn and Fayleen had went on another job together. It was nothing high profile, just petty thievery from a local farmer. But it was a few septims extra. They decided to keep it hidden from the Thieves Guild that Fayleen was working with an outsider like Teldryn. She was slightly more respected by the Guild for pulling off the heist at Sibbi Black-Briar's, but she was still new so members often didn't look twice at her. Katara and Teldryn were her closest acquaintances for the time being.

Regardless of the nights when they ran jobs, Fayleen visited their house every day. She was always stealing bottles of wine or food from around the city of Riften, then she'd bring it to the house that night and the three of them would eat the feasts Teldryn was able to afford with his earned coin. They exchanged stories and learned more about each other, talked about their travels, and Katara had opened up more about the prophecy to Fayleen.

She was beginning to understand it more, which in turn helped her understand Katara more. She was less distant to her and seemed to like visiting with them. Fayleen had even begun to show Katara the basics of frost magicka early the past two mornings. She got to the point where she was able to feel the coolness radiating from the center of her palm, but was never actually able to produce the spell. Fayleen was patient with her - for the most part. Day one of their lessons started out with Katara avoiding ice spikes shot at her head. Fayleen insisted that learning to dodge frost magicka will help her in combat involving magicka. She was right, however Katara sensed that Fayleen also got some minor enjoyment in launching the ice spikes at her. Nonetheless, Fayleen's lessons were welcomed by Katara. They allowed Katara to practice her combat skills. She had been in hiding for a handful of days now, never venturing back out to Riften, never doing anything but staying in the house.

The midday sun shone bright overhead and Katara sat outside on the steps of the wooden porch. She felt the rays on the sun her tan cheeks. Despite being born and raised in freezing cold all her life, Katara had grown accustomed to the Rift's pleasant weather and enjoyed the warmth. There weren't many cloudy days, and the nights were breezy and cool. Clear crisp days like this also allowed her to keep watch for any dragons that may be hunting in the skies.

It had been days since they arrived on the back of Odahviing. She wanted to wait a couple days to see if Odahviing would return to the house, but he has yet to come back. Katara tried not to grow concerned about it. She considered calling upon him but held back on it for a little while longer she decided. Teldryn didn't question her, he actually seemed to enjoy things at the moment. Katara didn't know if that was because he had a place to call home, he was earning some coin, or Fayleen. She mowed over the thought that it could be all three. They were both rough around the edges, but to a third party like Katara...Teldryn and Fayleen were both softies on the inside. Fayleen was learning to trust him and even Katara. She had her moments, but she was making an effort.

A light trotting noise came from up ahead of Katara. She squinted under the sun and saw Fayleen galloping on the horse up to the front porch.

"You don't need anymore sun, your skin is dark enough.", Fayleen said as she hopped off the saddle and tied the horse up to a porch post.

Katara sat up and followed her up the steps and into the house. "I'm going to do it today.", she told Fayleen confidently as they walked into the living area. Teldryn was sitting on his bed sharpening his new dagger with a smooth steel rod.

"I'll believe it when I see it. You're trying too hard. It's not using muscle like when slaying a dragon, it's using your mind and breath to control the ice in your palms.", Fayleen replied back plainly. She glanced over at Teldryn and placed her knapsack down on the floor. "Any help here for teaching someone magicka?", she asked him.

Teldryn shrugged as he wiped his blade with a rag. "I'm afraid frost is the one school of magic I've never taken up learning. Don't really care to. I'm a flames kind of man.", he replied.

Fayleen rolled her eyes. "That's because Dunmer can't stand the cold.", she said. Teldryn lightly laughed and pointed at her.

"That is true, you know.", he said with a smile.

Fayleen smiled and opened up her knapsack, fishing around the bottom for something. She pulled out a silver ring and handed it to Katara.

"Wear this. It's just a silver ring but I've enchanted it a bit so magicka should come slightly easier to you.", Fayleen informed her. Katara looked down at it and slipped it on her right ring finger, extending her hand and glancing it over.

"Thank you so much, Fayleen.", Katara replied gratefully. That was a very kind thing for her to do. Fayleen almost smiled back at her before walking out of the house again and out into the field of grass.

"Alright, focus on your breathing.", Fayleen instructed once they were outside. She held out her hand palm side up and Katara mimicked it.

She breathed in and out deeply while focusing on the word "frost", trying to imagine herself amongst a raging blizzard - feeling the bone breaking chill of ice and snow. These were all tips Fayleen had taught her. Slowly she felt the cool pricks beginning to build in her palm. She focused harder when faintly frost began forming in an orb like fashion. Katara noticed it and felt like she had more control over it than before. It pushed her to raise her arm a bit higher, slowly a small icicle began to grow.

"That's it, Katara. Now fling it at the wall.", Fayleen instructed seriously. Katara took a deep breath and extended her hand outwards, palm facing the wall. She put all her energy into shooting the small icey spike at the rock wall a few yards away. It connected with a small shatter and the fragments fell to the ground and began to melt. Katara looked at it and couldn't help but to smile. Even Fayleen smiled at her.

"I knew that ring would help.", Fayleen told her with a smile. Teldryn heard the crash and walked outside to see.

"Feels good, doesn't it?", he spoke up nodding to Katara's hand. She smiled and looked down at it, still in amazement that she performed the spell.

"Want to see some real combat?", Fayleen asked them both. She nodded at Teldryn. "What do you say, elf?", she joked with a sly smile. He rolled his eyes and slipped on his red gloves from his armor pocket.

"Why not?", he replied. Katara stepped off to the side as Teldryn and Fayleen assumed their stances, raising their hands.

They both conjured their magicka in their hands, Teldryn with his burning flames and Fayleen with a frosty orb of ice. Teldryn was the first to move, he flung a small fireball at Fayleen. She held up her free hand and formed a white shield like spell. It radiated from her palm. The fireball hit it and dissipated, her magical shield warding off his fireballs. Fayleen quickly shot her ice spikes at Teldryn, one hitting him in the shoulder of his chitin armor. He winced only for a moment before also casting a ward spell in his other hand.

Teldryn and Fayleen shot round after round of flames and ice at each other. Most of the time they were able to dodge the hits with their wards. They were sliding and dodging each other the length of the yard. Katara spectated off to the side in wonder. Teldryn and Fayleen weren't intentionally trying to hurt each other, but they weren't taking it easy on one another either. On their owns they were both skilled mages that have seen their shares of combat, both with weaponry and magicka. Their previous expertise made them formidable opponents.

They were both sweating lightly from their brows. Fayleen's ward vanished the moment Teldryn flung a fireball. She managed to dodge it but it clipped the right side of her torso. She fell back and yelped sharply, landing on the ground.

Teldryn and Katara both immediately ran over to her. She sat up and lifted her right arm to examine her side. Her brown leather light armor was singed deep enough that her fair skin could be seen underneath the burned gash.

"Fayleen, I'm deeply sorry. Are you alright?", Teldryn asked sympathetically as he knelt down beside her. Her skin was unscathed, luckily her armor took the brunt.

"I'm fine.", she extended her hand for Teldryn to take so he could hoist her up. "I lost my focus for a moment.", she said almost annoyed with herself. Teldryn lifted her to her feet and she brushed herself off.

"You got the better of me this time, I suppose.", Fayleen admitted to Teldryn with a small smile. They both wiped the sweat from their faces and their breathing was slightly labored.

"That was intense. I could never be as good as the both of you.", Katara said as she stared at the two of them.

"That's because you're a pure human, it's harder for non-elven races.", Teldryn replied simply. "That's why I bested the half-bred Breton here.", he finished looking at Fayleen jokingly. She rolled her eyes.

"You forget that my father is a Thalmer.", Fayleen said. Thalmer were the most skilled in the arcane arts of all the races. "I'm a lucky Breton. And you're lucky that my ward faded or else my ice spikes would've had you on the ground.", she finished with a glare towards Teldryn. The three of them walked back into the house.

"Say, why don't we head into the city tonight for a drink and some good food?", Teldryn proposed to the girls. They both looked at each other then back at him. Fayleen shrugged as she sat down in a chair next to the table.

"Alright, fine. But no going near the cistern.", she said, pointing to Teldryn.

"We know the rules, Fayleen.", Teldryn replied dryly. "No, it'll be fun. Just a night of good drink and food."

Katara mowed over the thought. "It sure would be nice to get out of this house and off the mountain, if even for a moment."

Teldryn laid his fist on the table in declaration. "Then it's settled. Hey, even better - let's put on our fancies like we're some rich nobles.", he finished while playfully and jokingly waltzing across the living quarter. Katara and Fayleen both giggled at him.

Katara and Teldryn put on their fine robes that they wore when they met with High Queen Elisif weeks ago - Katara's an icy blue and Teldryn's a deep red. Her white hair was tied back in a shoulder length French braid. Teldryn's sheen black mohawk was sticking up sharply, his purple tribal marks running down his neck.

They went to the Bee Barb and paid the innkeeper for the finest table they had - which in reality was nothing shy of a couple carved chairs surrounding a table, a nice candle adorned atop. Still, it was a nice change from staying in the house. Katara loved having their home, but she was going stir crazy.

They sat down and waited for Fayleen. They agreed to meet at sunset. Finally she walked in and scanned the room until her eyes landed on their table. Fayleen wasn't wearing nobles clothes, but she looked very beautiful in the dark green belted tunic maids dress she was donning. Thin black shoes were on her petite feet and her black curls billowed around her face and down to her pale shoulders. Her emerald green eyes shimmered whereas she generally liked to shroud herself underneath her hood, never even changing out of her brown Guild armor. Fayleen's pale elven ears pointed slightly out of her hair at the sides of her head. Her deep red lips were full and plump.

She made her way over to their table and Katara couldn't help but notice one thing about Teldryn - he looked at Fayleen as if he was seeing her for the first time. The breath looked as if it was lost in his lungs. His look was noticeable only for a very short moment before he shook it off and regained normality but Katara knew that look. It was the same one her and Sinmir shared at the Bannered Mare.

"Don't look at me like I'm some princess.", Fayleen scoffed at them once she say down.

"Who's back did you steal the clothes off of?", Teldryn asked with a smile as he sipped from his wine bottle. He passed a bottle over to her. She shot him a look.

"I didn't steal these old drabs.", she replied confidently. Katara and Teldryn both gave her a skeptical look. She threw her hands in the air and scoffed again. "Alright, I swiped them from Haelga's house about an hour ago.", she finally admitted half smiling while taking a swig from her bottle. Katara and Teldryn both laughed.

The three of them ordered fat chops of venison with stewed tomatoes as dinners. They had been eating decently lately but nothing like this. The Argonian innkeeper knew exactly how to prepare it. Because they were at an Argonian ran inn, Bloodwine was served alongside regular Nord wine - an Argonian native delicacy. Bloodwine wasn't much different, except it was made with jazabay grapes instead of regular red grapes. It gave it an even sweeter, alluring taste. The three of them downed a few bottles collectively, telling stories and laughing.

"Do you think you'll ever return to Markarth?", Katara asked Fayleen as she poked at what was left of her venison.

"I haven't been back since I left home. I don't care to face my parents...right now, at least. I'm in my twenty sixth year and here in Riften is the longest I've stayed in one spot. I guess this is home, or at least an illusion of one.", Fayleen finished as she emptied her bottle.

"I haven't been back to Morrowind in ages either.", Teldryn chimed in.

"The last I saw of my village was my people under a cruel enchantment, manipulated by some twisted force. I miss them.", Katara added solemnly. She remembered the Skaal everyday, some days more so than others. She felt like she had been at this for so long that years have passed since she stepped onto Solstheim's snowy land. She wondered if they were still under the dark enchantment, and she wished there was a way she could tell them that she's trying her hardest to save them - along with everyone else. The thought made her itch.

"I think tomorrow morning I'm going to try to summon Odahviing.", she whispered with a distant look on her face. Teldryn and Fayleen returned her solemn expression.

"I think that's a sound idea, but what do we do if he doesn't show?", Teldryn asked her genuinely. Katara sat back and thought for a moment.

If Odahviing didn't show then she couldn't just continue hiding out until he eventually did - that could be ages, or never. No, she had to do something. The only people in Skyrim who would know what to do are the Greybeards - including Parthurnaax. High Hrothgar would be her best option, although she dreaded the hike up the mountain. It had to be done. All the flashbacks of her people had stirred in her a need to do something. The visions she saw when she absorbed her first dragon soul ran through her mind, although she actively tried to suppress them daily. Katara knew what had to happen, knew she needed to end Alduin's rise before it was too late.

"Then we go to High Hrothgar. I know it's not ideal but it may be all we have.", Katara replied to Teldryn. He glanced away distantly for a moment and nodded his head.

"Unfortunately, you're right.", Teldryn answered with a slight sigh. "Well, this evening has turned a bit sour, I'd say.", he quickly added and took another sip of his wine. Fayleen looked at them both curiously.

"So wait...that means you may have to leave?", she asked genuinely, glancing between the both of them. She seemed to glance at Teldryn slightly more.

"Perhaps.", he replied, sharing her slight disappointment. "But let's not worry about that right now. I have enough coin for some snowberry pies.", he added trying to be cheerful. Fayleen looked away for a moment but then regained herself. Her and Teldryn both had issues sharing their feelings, which was good and bad given their lines of work.

Teldryn called out to the Argonian innkeeper for one of her best snowberry pies. She nodded and shortly brought out the piping hot dessert moments later. The three of them dug into the pie, picking at it some. They didn't say much to each other as they munched on the delicious snowberry pie. It was warm and sweet on their lips. They finished the pie, patting their swollen stomachs, and left the Bee Barb.

"Lessons tomorrow morning?", Katara lightheartedly asked Fayleen as they made their way down an alley behind the bar.

Fayleen smiled lightly. "You still want lessons from me?". Katara smiled back and nodded her head.

"It'll be the first thing on tomorrow's to do list.", she said brightly.

The three of them turned a corner and in the blink of an eye a Riften guard had bashed Fayleen over the head with the broad hard front of his wooden shield. She went unconscious as the guard caught her from falling.

Katara and Teldryn spun around and hastily grabbed for their weapons but two more guards lunged out of the shadows for Teldryn and another one grabbed Katara and covered her mouth, pinning her arms behind her back.

"Just what in Oblivion are you - ", Teldryn exclaimed before the guard wrapped a piece of fabric over his mouth so he couldn't speak. They did the same to Katara and quickly led them out of the back alley. Katara and Teldryn looked at each other worriedly as the guards marched them through the back alleys of Riften.

Just as they were last week, Katara and Teldryn found themselves sitting behind bars in Riften jail. This time they were accompanied by Fayleen, who was laying on her back on the wooden bench and was beginning to slightly stir. She opened her eyes, blinking them wincingly for a moment before wearily lifting her head. Her eyes immediately scanned the cell and her mind registered where she was. She looked over at Katara and Teldryn. Katara was sitting criss-crossed on the dirty cold floor and Teldryn leaned against the stone wall.

"Why the hell are we here?", Fayleen asked them with a concerned tone in her voice. She sat up and swung her legs in front of her on the bench.

"Your guess is as good as ours. They haven't told us a thing.", Teldryn replied to her. "How's your head?", he nodded towards the red mark on the right side of her forehead. Fayleen lightly nursed it with her finger but it was tender, a good indication that it would surely be blackened and knotted come morning.

"It'll be fine.", she said as she slowly got up and brushed off her clothing. Fayleen walked to the bars of the cell and peered out confusedly. "This has to be a mistake. The Guild wouldn't let one of their own sit behind bars, not when Maven runs this joint.", she said as she tried making sense of it all.

"I have a bad feeling about all of this.", Katara spoke up from the floor. She had an uneasy feeling in her gut. It wasn't likethe feeling when they were first arrested, a mix of anger and self disappointment at their petty thievery. This one was more of a knotted feeling in her stomach and she felt anxious. Finally three guards opened up the door and stepped closer to the cell. One of them began fiddling with the lock of the iron cell.

"Going to tell us where we're headed this time?", Teldryn asked the guards sternly with slight anger.

The door opened and the guards stepped in, one guard each going to the three of them and binding their hands behind their backs.

"Jarl Froki Law-Giver wishes to speak with the three of you.", one guard who was handling Fayleen said.

The guards led the three of them out of the cell, not saying a word to each other, and down a long and winding stone hallway. Eventually they emerged into a large room with a throne at the end. There sat Jarl Froki Law-Giver, a middle aged dark haired man with a gold circlet adorned atop his head. He had a fur robe draped over his shoulders and his fine robes were sleeveless, showing his tan muscles underneath.

At his side sat Maven Black-Briar, lookingstern and cold.

The guards placed Katara, Teldryn, and Fayleen in front of the Jarl's throne. Katara noticed that Fayleen tensed up at being in the presence of Maven. The three of them stood there silent with their hands bound behind their backs. Maven outstretched her silver goblet without darting her eyes away from the three of them. A scrawny steward in a brown robe hastily grabbed a bottle of wine and rushed over to fill her goblet.

"I would've expected better from a promising whelp.", Maven finally spoke up, breaking the deafening silence that fell in the throne room.

Fayleen looked around for a moment, her pale cheeks flushing slightly red. She opened her mouth but Maven spoke up again.

"And I expected better from someone fighting alongside the fabled Dragonborn.", she added with venom dripping from her voice. Maven swished her wine around lightly in her cup as she glared down Teldryn, sometimes flickering her eyes over to Fayleen.

"Maven, perhaps you should just cut to the point.", Jarl Froki finally spoke up beside her. His voice was deep and demanding. Maven lightly looked over at him but quickly returned her attention to the three of them in front of her.

"I know you two have been working on the side together. That's a poor decision in both your courts.", she looked over at Fayleen. "You're giving away a cut that belongs to the Thieves Guild,", she turned back to Teldryn. "to an uncharted thief in my town. Did you not learn your lesson the first time it landed you behind bars?"

"What would you have me do with them, Maven? I told you I don't handle matters with your filthy little Guild.", Jarl Froki said again. Maven hopped off beside him and turned to look at him.

"You can put all three of them behind bars for life - or have them hanged for all I care.", she said with an angry scowl on her face, her almost purple lips pursed in displeasure at the Jarl's chide comment of the Theives Guild.

"Jarl Froki, if I may - ", Katara started but Maven stopped her abruptly.

"You will speak when spoken to!", she hollered with her finger pointing at Katara.

"Enough, woman!", Jarl Froki hollered back, sitting up in his seat. Maven snapped her head back towards him with wide eyes. "I'm tired of you thinking you run this city. Riften is mine and I'll be damned if I continue to let some rich whore believe otherwise. I don't care about your Guild, they're a nasty bundle of rats that terrorize my people.", he finished with seething anger and frustration in his voice.

The whole room was silent. The guards and the frail steward with his wine bottle hung their heads and tried to keep to their own. Maven and the Jarl stared at each other for a moment.

"Are you saying you want to be rid of me?", she asked very plainly, almost with a soft tone. Jarl Froki sat back in his chair and glared at her.

"We've hated each other for a while now, Maven. You only use me so the Thieves Guild can do their business and I only keep you around because you're easy to bed.", he answered simply, never taking his eyes off her. "You and I both know...this...isn't good.", he finished nodding to the space between the two of them.

Maven didn't look stunned or hurt, Katara suspected it wasn't the first time they've said such words to each other. She simply tiptoed her way back to him and leaned in.

"I'll always know where to find you, where to find Tomas.", Maven whispered. Jarl Froki's eyes widened in her face, his bottom lip trembled slightly out of anger and presumably fear.

"You wouldn't touch a hair on my son's head...", he whispered back. The corners of Maven's mouth twisted up almost slyly. She had hit him where she knew it would sting.

Maven didn't reply, she simply stood up and snapped her fingers, alerting one of the Riften guards. "It's unwise to doubt me, Froki." At her snap a guard shuffled down the hallway and into a bedroom. The sound of a door opening and a young boy's words of protest echoed down the halls.

Jarl Froki Law-Giver shot up in his throne but two more guards promptly placed their hands on him and shoved him back down.

"I am your Jarl, you work for me!", he shouted at them.

"It's funny what a little bit of coin can do to loyalty.", Maven replied back calmly. The child's cries got louder as the guard emerged from the hallway dragging Tomas Law-Giver from his arm. The guard tossed the boy in front of Maven, in between her and Froki.

Maven walked over to one of the guards and held out her hand expectantly. The guard put his hand on the pommel of his sword and gave her an odd look.

"Give it to me!", she ordered him with wide eyes and a demanding voice. The guard obeyed and reluctantly handed his sword to Maven.

"Just stop this, Maven...please...", Jarl Froki said in a worried tone as Maven approached Tomas with the sword in her tiny hand. Tomas' lips quivered and hot tears were streaming down his face. She got closer to the boy and gingerly pointed the sword at his throat, the edge just barely touching the young boy's flesh. He began crying harder, staring at his father with pleading eyes.

"Damnit, woman! I've let you have too much control!", Jarl Froki hollered out. He was shaking profusely, both with anger and fear. His hands trembled and his own eyes were welling up with tears. It was a horrific and nerve-wracking scene and Katara, Teldryn, and Fayleen had to watch with disgust and worry on their faces.

"Alright, alright.", Froki bellowed over his son's gutteral sobs. "We'll do with these three as you see fit if you leave Tomas alone. Please, just - just let my boy be, Maven.", he pleaded to her with tears in his eyes, Tomas' cries the only thing being heard in a room of horrified bystanders.

Maven turned her head ever so slightly to get a better look at Jarl Froki Law-Giver. She had reduced the muscular ruler of the Rift to nothing more than a sobbing beggar, pleading a mad woman for his son's life. Katara almost felt bad for him, if he hadn't just gambled away their fates in exchange for Tomas'.

Maven looked back at the crying, shaking boy with the cold steel blade against his throat. She grinned ever so slightly.

"Good.", she finally said as she removed the blade from him and handed it back to the guard. Tomas leapt up from his knees and ran to his father, the two of them embraced in a tight hug. "I want the three of them hanged."

Katara, Teldryn, and Fayleen shifted uncomfortably in their spots as Jarl Froki looked at them while consoling his son in his arms. He sighed heavily and his cheeks were stained with tears.

"So be it.", he finally ordered.

The three of them worriedly glanced at each other. Maven smiled and went to sit back in her chair. "Splendid.", she finally said with a smile. She swished her wine around in her goblet, the steward had only poured her very little. "Damn stupid new steward! You never leave a noble's cup half empty.", she snapped at him as she extended her goblet to him. He rushed over and topped off her drink.

"We'll hang them come first morning light.", Jarl Froki muttered wearily to Maven.

She took a big sip from her cup. "We'll do it in the public square." She got back up from her seat and walked towards the three of them standing in front of her.

"Please, you don't know how grave of a mistake this is...", Katara spoke to her as Maven approached.

"Grave? My dear I don't think you realize how - ", suddenly Maven trailed off. It looked as if she was having trouble forming words. She glanced at her feet for a moment and her eyes slowly widened. Her breaths started coming in sharp gasps and her dark eyes filled with a bloody red tint. Jarl Froki looked on with eyes wide and mouth open for a moment, though he did not get up from his throne. Tomas was sitting on his lap with his arms around his father and watching with teary, confused eyes. The guards around them did not budge although they reached for their weapons as Maven clasped her boney hands around her seizing throat. She was trying to sputter words but nothing came out, her nose began leaking warm blood.

Katara, Teldryn, and Fayleen looked on with horrified faces but none of them said a word at Maven's slow and agonizing death taking place in front of them.

Maven swayed back and forth wearily, still unable to conjure air in her lungs. Her face was as red as a snowberry and she had spit and drool pooling at the corners of her mouth the more she gasped. Finally her body went limp and she fell to the ground, seizing and shivering in her dying blinks. Katara noticed the scrawny steward raise his hood and almost smile as he slipped out of the room and down the hallway. She heard the synchronized "shink!" of the guards swords as they drew them in confusion once Maven's body hit the floor. Jarl Froki Law-Giver slowly stood up with his mouth hung agape, staring at Maven on the floor. Suddenly Katara felt Teldryn's breath against her ear.

"Run.", he whispered to her. Fayleen heard him too and the three of them took off running down the hall where the steward crept out of, their hands still bound. They quickly ran back into the jail and found the chest where their weapons were. None of them could unlock it while their hands were bound.

"I have a lockpick in my dress.", Fayleen said as she hastily looked around the room until her eyes landed on the jail cell they had been held in. She quickly leapt over and started to writhe her bound hands against the rusty iron bars. Her binds began to fray and coupled with the force of her trying to break free, the binds snapped and allowed Fayleen's hands to break loose. She quickly went to work on chest with the lockpick she plucked out of her breast from inside her dress. Meticulously she proded it and was able to pry it open. She grabbed her dagger and cut the binds off Katara and Teldryn's hands, then they both grabbed their weapons.

"There's a door down the hall to the right we might be able to leave from. Let's go!", Fayleen said as the three of them made their way out of the room and down the halls. They heard the shouts of the guards growing louder, no doubt coming to look for them. They sprinted down the hallway, quickly making their way around sharp corners, until they found the door and jimmied it open.

"Down the back alleys!", Katara hollered as they scrambled to find their footing in the dark of the city. The three of them hustled down the back streets where they were taken just hours ago. They turned a sharp corner and found a few guards coming the opposite direction. Turning around they saw another smaller group of guards running towards them from the direction they just came. They were being surrounded as the guards closed in, all their sharp weapons drawn and shimmering under the moonlight.

Teldryn glanced all around them, his eyes landed on the stone wall behind them. It wasn't a very tall wall, maybe a foot high. It was an outer wall of Riften. He looked back over at Katara and they shared the same thought, they could see it in each other's eyes. Fayleen didn't notice, she was busy focusing on the horde of city guards circling them.

In a snap decision, Katara jumped over the back wall with Teldryn grabbing Fayleen and following her dive fifteen feet down into the Rift canal.


	15. Fifteen: A Cruel Illusion

Chapter Fifteen: A Cruel Illusion

Splashing, gurgling, eyes flush with mineral water, clear nose, breathe, repeat. Katara swam like she never had before in her life. Then again she never did much swimming previously. The waters of the Ghost Sea in Solstheim were below freezing and often had chunks of ice floating on waves lapping the shoreline. If the Skaal were in the water, it was purely accidental - more often than not slipping from a small fishing boat while trying to hook salmon and mud crabs. But the waters of the Rift canal were anything but frigid and bone chilling. It was crisp and cool, yet light and refreshing at the same time. Katara had never felt water like this. If only she had time to bask in it instead of dodging arrows that were being shot at them from two guards standing over the ledge they just jumped from.

Off to her sides were Teldryn and Fayleen, both following the same techniques - splashing, gurgling, eyes flushed with water, clear nose, breathe, repeat. An arrow zipped by Fayleen's shoulder, narrowly missing her. Another one landed just a few feet in front of Katara. The three of them were trying to stay under water as much as they could to remain hidden under the moonlight. Katara had never swallowed so much water, trying to hold her breath while swimming exuberantly took its toll on her lungs and muscles - but she pressed on as did Teldryn and Fayleen. Their lives depended on it.

A few short moments later they had finally hit the light currents of the canal. It provided them an extra push needed to swiftly disappear from the view of Riften and its guards with bows and weapons. All of them relaxed their muscles for just a moment while the current carried them. They cautiously swam their way over to the soggy clay riverbank.

The three of them were breathing heavily and they were completely drenched from head to toe, water dripping all over the mud. They collapsed on the riverbank, trying to catch their breath and wipe the water from their eyes. Katara looked down at her blue fine robes that were dirty, smelly, and soaked now. Teldryn's robes and Fayleen's dress were in the same poor condition. The three of them patted themselves down and examined their limbs. None of them had been hit by an arrow, they were lucky and grateful.

"We should head home and change out of these clothes.", Fayleen suggested softly as she wrapped her pale nimble hands around her drenched black curls and tried to wring the water free from them. "We have to get off the roads for the night."

Katara and Teldryn still sat there, their panting slowing down. Katara realized that was the first time she's ever heard Fayleen refer to the house as her home. None of them could deny that she had started to blend into the friendship with Katara and Teldryn. Perhaps this is the first time Fayleen's ever had a place to call home since she abandoned her actual home ten years ago. Regardless, Katara didn't have time to chew on the thought. Fayleen was right, they needed to get off the roads and back home.

"Aye, luckily the canal carried us halfway.", Teldryn said as he stood up with a couple groans and moans, wringing his soaked red robes of any excess water.

The three of them got up and set off down the road, not but a couple short miles from home.

The open fire crackled and burned in the dimly lit house. They decided against lighting any candles so as not to draw attention to the home to any guards that may be on the roads, although their home was still hidden in between the rocks and boulders. They didn't want to chance it, only the fire blazed.

They had changed out of their soaked linens and slipped into their armors, hanging their soggy clothing over the roasting stick that stuck by the fire. Fayleen Guild armor was still down in the cistern in Riften, Katara had let her wear her pink dingy maids dress that she kept in her knapsack. Teldryn wore his chitin armor, everything but his gloves and helm. His black mohawk still laid flatly down as it dried from the warmth of the room.

Katara sat in one of the chairs with her legs crossed Indian style. Her white hair, which had she noticed had grown a bit longer since she last let it hang down from her braids almost a month ago, was still damp as it rested down her shoulders and slightly down her back. She looked into the fire and wearily grabbed the wine bottle from the edge of the table.

"I have to ask...what happened to Maven back there? That was a horrific scene to bear witness to...", she asked looking over at the two of them. Teldryn and Fayleen looked at each other for a slight moment.

"She was poisoned.", Fayleen replied plainly. Her black curls hung down to her shoulders, a bit frizzed from the water. She was curled up by the fire with her knees brought up to her chest. Her chin rested gingerly on her knees. "I've killed many with the same paralyzing poison. That was a brilliant way to go about it on their part."

Katata scrunched her face in confusion. "Their?"

"The Dark Brotherhood - no doubt Maven's new steward was the assassin.", Teldryn spoke up from where he was sitting against the edge of his bedside.

Katara's face turned to one of seriousness. The Dark Brotherhood didn't operate on Solsthiem, at least that she knew of, but she was familiar with who they were through books that she studied in the Great Hall in the Skaal village.

"I did see the steward escape in the fray just after Maven collapsed...", she faintly remembered. "Wait, how did you know that someone performed the Black Sacrament on her?"

Teldryn and Fayleen glanced at each other and shrug their shoulders. "We sort of stumbled upon the Sacrament when clearing out Sibbi's house a few nights ago. You can see now why we chose not to tell anyone.", Teldryn replied.

"Maven is - was - the prime target for Sibbi. That poison was intended for her, no mistake about it.", Fayleen nodded softly in agreement.

Katara agreed, but she glinted her eyes as them slightly. "What else are you two hiding from me?", she asked with a slight teasing smile. Fayleen sat up and uncurled her legs from under her.

"Nothing! Don't look at us like that! Gross.", she snapped with a loud scoff and made an over exaggerated disgusted scowl at the very notion. Katara couldn't help but notice that her cheeks flushed pink, and it wasn't just from the fire.

Teldryn sat still and stared at her with an offended look, half joking half serious. "Ouch. Thanks, Fay."

Fayleen rolled her eyes lightly and tried to appear disgusted but her cheeks were still reddened. There was a short quiet moment as the fire blazed on.

"I think we should stick with the plan - try to call Odahviing in the morning.", Katara said out loud but softly. Teldryn nodded his head.

"And you're sure you want to head to High Hrothgar if he doesn't come?", he asked.

Katara lightly sighed. She looked around the small interior of the house. It was tiny but had become cozy for going on a week. Teldryn's hay bed lay against the back wall, adjacent to the fireplace. A table and chairs sat neatly in front of the fireplace. Just a few feet away sat Katara's room, there was no door and it only had a bed and a table side drawer in it. The whole place was dingy but there was food on the table and a place to lay their heads at night. It wasn't much, but it was home for them. At least some version of that.

"It has to be done. I can't sit here any longer and let things continue to worsen.", Katara replied bluntly. Teldryn nodded his head slowly and sighed.

"You're right. Unfortunately.", he said with a small smile. He looked over at Fayleen, who had gone silent since Katara slightly embarrassed her. "And what will happen with you? With Maven gone what will happen to the Guild?", he asked.

Fayleen looked down for a moment and thought. "I suppose Brynjolf will take over the Guild.", she said mid thought, as if just realizing it herself and picturing the band of thieves under Brynjolf's watch. "I don't...I don't think I can go back though. Back to Riften."

The city guards, if they weren't swayed back to Jarl Froki's command, would still be after Fayleen if she returned - as well as Katara and Teldryn. She couldn't risk their lives or her own. She was liking the Thieves Guild, but it was too risky to go back now. There would always be opportunities for coin elsewhere, but perhaps she was meant to travel the trails that Skyrim had to offer. Still, the thought of leaving the Guild behind saddened her a bit. Albeit something that may not have been morally righteous, but she genuinely enjoyed it - and she was good at it.

Fayleen looked deeply at Katara and Teldryn. "Looks as if I'll need to set off again - find a new place to roam." Her eyes looked almost pleading, as if she wanted ask something but couldn't.

Katara glanced at Teldryn, who was looking over at her with attentive eyes. There was something different about him. When he looked at Fayleen, his eyes opened a window into his soul. If Katara wasn't mistake, she'd venture to believe the rough around the edges mercenary Teldryn Sero was beginning to have feelings for this firey Breton thief.

"Fayleen, you know you're not leaving here without us, right?", Katara finally said bluntly with a light, endearing tone. Fayleen snapped her head to look at Katara, a loving look on her face. Her green eyes almost welling with tears, but slightly glossed. She only looked down and tried to hide a smile, nodding her head. Fayleen would be someone you'd want to travel with. Although she could be hard to handle, she proved she could hold her own in battle. And having a sneak theif would be beneficial in any situation. Even Katara had grown accustomed to Fayleen, she wanted more frost magicka lessons from her and enjoyed having a female companion. It was as if she had a slightly older sister.

Teldryn smiled lightly at Katara, then back at Fayleen. "You're a pain in the ass but we could use you.", he said playfully, a retaliation from her comment earlier. She smiled back at him. Her eyes almost looked teary for a moment but she quickly retreated back to her cold composure, although smiling.

"It would be in your best interest.", she said with a laugh. Teldryn smiled wide and remembered his very same words the day he met Katara and she hired him as her blade. His eyes glimmered at Fayleen.

"It's getting late, we need to get up for my lesson at dawn.", Katara softly said nodding towards Fayleen. "And then we will need to leave - either on the back of Odahviing or on foot.", she wearily said. The thought of leaving made her sad, though Katara knew it was for the prophecy - her destiny. She would return someday when her work has been fulfilled.

She stood up slowly out of the chair and moved towards her bed chambers, stopping in front of Fayleen.

"Do you want my bed for the night?", she asked her genuinely yet tiredly. Fayleen shook her head.

"No, thank you though. I'll sleep out here by the fire.", Fayleen replied tenderly as she glanced over to the flames. Katara nodded and gave her a tired smile.

"G'night.", Teldryn told Katara as she walked into her open room. Fayleen sighed lightly then got up and made her way to the front door of the house. She opened the door and walked out onto the dingy porch. She just need to catch some air, her lungs still felt soaked from the canal water. Crossing her arms over her chest she walked down into their yard, which was nothing more than some patches of grass, dirt, and weeds. Fayleen walked to the edges of the rocks and peered down into the valley. She saw Riften with its dimly lit city lights among the houses, buildings, and Jarl's Keep. She wondered what was happening in Riften at this very moment. Will everyone find out it was Sibbi that siced the Brotherhood on Maven? Will Jarl Froki regain control of his guards and leadership? What will happen to the Thieves Guild? Fayleen had many questions, most she didn't know if she'd ever find the answer to. Riften really felt like a good fit for her, it COULD have been home - if even for a moment. But she knew she brought it upon herself. It was her idea to run side jobs with Teldryn. She knew the Guild wouldn't gripe about it too much but with Maven reigning she had to keep her wits about her. She didn't heed her own words. It was an unwise decision and she endangered herself and Teldryn. Why was she so foolish?

That was the question she couldn't seem to answer herself. Fayleen had never grown accustomed to company, never let others too close. But with Teldryn Sero she felt differently. A feeling she hadn't experienced before. The feeling gave her both joy and grief. Joy because it was a light feeling, one of warmth and new giddiness. But grief because of how nagging the feeling of uncertainty was. It was like a door that she was both afraid and excited to open. Fayleen actively tried to suppress this little feeling. She knew that despite of the recent events, she had met two friends - and perhaps they were some form of home now.

Fayleen's thoughts were interrupted when she heard foot steps crunching in the grass yard behind her. She spun around and saw Teldryn approaching in the night.

"By the Divines, you nearly scared the piss out of me.", Fayleen muttered as she turned back around to look down at Riften. Teldryn shrugged apologetically. The two of them stood there in silence for a moment, looking down into the valley. The sound of bugs chirping was heard faintly in the shrubbery behind the house.

"I want to thank you. What you did back there - pulling me into the canal. I wouldn't have noticed and followed suit if you didn't grab me.", Fayleen softly said, still looking down at Riften and not at Teldryn.

He gave her a sincere smile and glanced away. "You're my friend, you would've done the same for me.", he softly said. She stared off into the distance for a moment. He was right, she would have.

However her mouth said something different. "How well do you think you know me?", she asked half jokingly.

"Admittedly I don't know you terribly well, but I will, you know.", Teldryn said lowly with a smile. "Now that we're traveling alongside one another."

That made her almost giddy, but she didn't dare show it. "So this dragon that Katara is supposed to summon tomorrow, what's really going to happen?", she asked seriously.

Teldryn scrunched his face for a moment. "What do you mean?" The two of them started walking away from the edge of the yard and back towards the house.

"Well, obviously dragons aren't real so - "

Teldryn stopped on the porch and spun around quickly to face Fayleen, who was right behind him. He stood close to her, his tall body almost seemed to loom over her slender physique. Fayleen could smell the fire from the house on him.

"We'll see how real you think they are when you're soaring through the skies on the back of one.", he said with a slight smile. They turned and walked into the house.

*Solitude, the next morning, 7:30am*

High Queen Elisif the Fair sat atop her golden throne. To her side was Falk Firebeard and Fenrar. She hadn't even put breakfast in her belly yet before having to deal with the letter that laid half open in her lap.

"Who would have a motive for something like this?", she asked out loud to nobody in particular, however her faithful steward spoke up.

"Well, My Queen, Maven Black-Briar wasn't very liked. Not even by Jarl Froki himself.", Falk replied.

Elisif nodded her head then looked back down at the hand written letter that was addressed for her eyes. It was short and to the point, no doubt written by Froki. But her heart sank into the pit of her stomach when she read the final paragraph of the note:

"Upon a search of Maven's living quarters, the guards found only a note with the black handprint on it. You and I both know the powers at play. I will continue to lead Riften and keep the Thieves Guild at bay."

"The Brotherhood?", Elisif said aloud, although it was a question she herself already knew the answer to.

The black handprint was a calling card of the ruthless band of assassins. They often left its symbol somewhere near one of their kills - 'contracts', as they referred to their targets as - as a way to send a message to the remaining living.

Elisif sighed deeply. "Maven was a high ranking citizen in Skyrim, but the Brotherhood doesn't take into consideration titles and status. It's unfortunate, if anything."

Falk shifted a bit in his place. "There's also been...whispers. The courier that rushed this here said that there were talks among city folk of the Dragonborn being there at the time of Maven's...termination.", he finished softly. Elisif's eyes flashed wide at Falk, this news came as more of a shock to her than Maven's death.

"What in Oblivion is she doing in Riften? She's supposed to be quelling this dragon crisis. Another damn attack two days ago, this time at Graytown. I heard a child and some cattle were picked off and carried away by the beast.", Elisif said loudly. Falk hung his head and nodded sympathetically.

"Must've been horrific, Your Grace."

Elisif sat back in her throne and placed her hands on the arms of the gold seat. "You should've seen it, Falk - the dragon that she rode off on. It was as if she tamed the beast.", she finished as if recalling the day she saw Katara ride off on the back of Odahviing. "She truly is the savior of Skyrim.", she finished softly. Falk and Fenrar remained silent and exchanged a look amongst themselves. They waited for their Queen's next words.

"However I did not agree to bring this war to a halt so she can pleasure cruise her way down the Riften canal - and in Stormcloak territory, nonetheless. It makes me uneasy, Falk.", she finished anxiously. Elisif knew that Katara and Ulfric had been acquaintances to say the least. They were two people who shared in the gift of the ancient Nords, joining their houses was the smartest strategy - and true Nords would always stick together.

But Elisif tried to push those thoughts out of her mind. Here she sat, a High Queen that wasn't ready nor happy to step into the crown and title. Had her inexperience with power and war allowed Ulfric an advantage over her by forming an alliance with the Dragonborn? The thought toyed with her mind each night. Elisif knew she had to have faith in Katara, although it was daunting still.

Fenrar tried to steady her nerves. "All our troops have been pulled out of the camps and into Solitude territory. Our hold is very safe, My Queen."

That did give Elisif a bit of relief. Ulfric's men would sure to be outnumbered should they try anything, or a dragon. Although she feared less an attack from Stormcloak armies than dragons. Ulfric wouldn't try any trickery that would put himself or Windhelm in danger. She felt for the most part that he'd hold up his end of the truce.

"Good. Now that we have men here I want to send a detachment caravan into the hills of The Reach in search of the Dark Brotherhood sanctuary.", she gulped when her late husband's name popped into mind. "Torygg put the hunt for them off just before his death. Now that we have time we should resume the expedition.", she finished trying to sound poised and serious. She never cared for Maven herself and resuming the search for the Dark Brotherhood didn't concern her as much as she made it seem to her aids, but it was a distraction from the more pressing thoughts for a moment.

High Queen Elisif had not seen Katara since she flew off into the snowy skies on the back of a dragon. She only hoped she knew what she was doing, and quickly. Her patience was wearing thin.

"Again.", Fayleen ordered from the side of the yard. She stood there watching Katara intently, who was flinging ice spikes against the flat side of a boulder at a systematic pace. Sweat was perspiring on her tan brow despite the coolness of the morning. It was cloudy outside, something that was rare for the Rift. Grey, billowy clouds loomed overhead, looking threatening of rain. It shielded the usually bright morning sun and gave the air an almost chillier feel, although it was still quite comfortable in light armor.

Katara heard Fayleen's orders and again focused her energy at the core of her palm, just as she had been repetitively doing for the last hour. Her hand was freezing, it almost stung from the piercing cold. But still she did as Fayleen instructed and fought her way through it to correctly produce the spell for what felt like the hundredth time. A fat heavy rain drop fell onto Fayleen's forehead and she looked up at the sky with annoyance.

"Alright, it would appear the clouds have a different plan. Better head inside.", Fayleen spoke as she pulled her hood over her head. She had fashioned an end of the hem of the belted tunic Katara had given her to the collar of the dress to serve as a hood of some sort. She liked to shield her fair skinned pointed ears from the sun, and in this case the rain. She told them she'd buy light armor if they hit any towns or vendors on their travels.

Katara lowered her hands and resumed a non battle stance. She heard Fayleen but she almost wished she hadn't. Flinging ice crystals at the rock siding took a lot out of her, but it also took her mind off of what had to happen soon. They had to leave, one way or the other.

The fat drops began falling harder and in more numbers. The wind picked up slightly. Katara held one hand over her eye line and looked up at the sky. A wet drop landed on her tan cheek.

"Right.", she started as she wiped the water from her face. "Let's see if Teldryn had finished loading the horse anyway."

Katara and Fayleen walked through the yard and around the front of the house. They found Teldryn loading the last knapsack onto the horse that was tied up to a post on the front porch. He had a heavy bear pelt hiked above his head with one arm, muttering profanities under his breath as the rain began pouring harder and he was trying to avoid getting wet. The two girls ran under the porch to get out of the rain, Teldryn joined them quickly.

"She's all loaded up. Just in time too it would seem.", he said as he glared up at the darkening sky. In the distance thunder roared from above mountains behind them. They could see lightning forming down in the valley.

Katara glanced through the window of the home and saw the dark interior. For the first time in almost a week, there was no fire or candles radiating from the living quarters. It looked as dark inside as the first day they arrived. "Well, I suppose now is as good a time as ever.", she said as she walked off the porch and back out into the yard, raining hitting her armor. She placed her iron helmet on her head.

"You're going to summon him in a storm?", Fayleen hollered out at her.

"If Odahviing can find me in a blizzard then he can find me in some rain.", Katara replied. She had to her back to Teldryn and Fayleen, who stayed put under the dryness of the porch. Katara spread her feet shoulder width apart and stared up into the sky, rain hitting her face again. She clasped her hands tightly together at her chest and closed her eyes. She focused her energy in her gut with a deep inhale, then she pushed that energy through her being and up to her throat.

"O...DAHVIING!", Katara Shouted into the gloomy sky. It sounded like a clap of thunder, but still distinguishable from the actual thunder around them. It shook the ground under them slightly.

Fayleen jolted a bit in her place and one hand instinctively steadied herself against the porch railing. "Wow...", she muttered to herself at the sight and sound of Katara's Thu'um. Teldryn looked over at her bracing herself then quickly back up at the skies, scanning back and forth.

Katara waited there for a moment, her head titled towards the raining sky. She heard nothing. No familiar flapping, no roars, and she certainly didn't see any dragon weaving it's way through the clouds. Still, she waited. The three of them waited. Only the rain and thunder drawing nearer could be heard.

A few more moments passed and Katara frantically looked around the skies. Her heart sunk into stomach and became knotted. She had an uneasy feeling. She knew Odahviing would not just ignore her summoning. Something felt wrong.

Katara tried calling again, but she was struck with fear in that moment. Her Shout came out as nothing more than a shaky holler.

"Odahviing!", she cried through tears that muddled with the heavy rain falling on her face. Just as they were last night when they pulled themselves from the canal, Katara was drenched. And the rain only seemed to worsen. She still feverishly darted her eyes across the sky, wiping the tears and rain from her vision. She began breathing heavily, almost as if having a panic attack. Her breaths were ragged and water dripped off her nose and onto her lips.

"Odahviing...", Katara tried to holler out one last time, but it was quite pitiful and came out as nothing louder than a croaky plea. Teldryn noticed her odd demeanor and rushed out to her, Fayleen taking off after him into the open yard.

Teldryn grabbed Katara's arms and jerked her face up so he could see her. She looked weary. Fayleen rushed to grab her other arm and they helped her inside the home.

"You need to lie down. Stop panicking, Kat...", Teldryn said as him and Fayleen worked together to lay her down on his bed in the living quarters.

Fayleen stepped back from her once she was laid down. She had a solemn look on her face. She hadn't seen Katara like this yet, and she couldn't explain what she heard come from her mouth just moments ago as it pierced the sky. She was born in Skyrim, but she didn't care much for stories and fables. She was more preoccupied with traveling and making an earning. The only stories she knew were the ones Katara had told her just recently, she was still figuring it all out.

Katara's breathing still came in gasps and she was looking around the room, her eyes swiftly darting back and forth. Teldryn's face quickly grew to one of concern as he realized she was unable to steady herself. He held her arm down with one muscular hand while he formed a green orb in his free palm. He focused his eyes on his hand for a moment before the green aurora began to appear around Katara's body. His face was one of concentration and skill as he cast a light calming spell on Katara. Teldryn's wrist began to tremble, but slowly Katara went still and her eyes fixated on one place of the ceiling. Her breathing slowed and came in the form of deep breaths. Almost as if he was dropping a ball, the green orb in Teldryn's palm popped and the aurora dissapated around Katara.

He winced and the other arm that was pinning down Katara flew up to nurse his wrist, just as he had done at Goldenglow Estate. He got up from the bed and grimaced, holding his wrist tightly as if squeezing out a soreness.

"Will you be alright?", Fayleen asked him genuinely when he came near. He shook his hand and rolled his wrist around.

"Yes, damn alteration spells always take so much out of you.", he replied with a tight, low voice. Katara slowly stirred as the hay bed shifted and crunched under her wet weight.

"I'm - I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me.", she stammered quietly. Teldryn and Fayleen moved to her side. Her eyes were barely open and she tossed her head from side to side occasionally.

"Shh. Just rest. I will wake you when the storm has passed and we will get on the move.", Teldryn tenderly yet firmly told her. He wasn't going to let her protest. He needed her to be in a stable state before traveling. Thunder clapped loudly overhead and the rain continued to downpour. Katara slowly closed her eyes and drifted off with her arm outstretched by her head.

Fayleen moved to the other side of the room and sat down in one of the chairs. Teldryn followed and sat opposite of her. He pushed his damp black mohawk back with his large slender palm and sighed.

"Well, I hope you're ready to climb the 7000 Steps.", he declaratively said to Fayleen. Her face scrunched for a moment in thought before registering it.

"What just happened out there?", she asked genuinely. Teldryn rested his elbows on the table's edge.

"Odahviing - yes, a dragon - didn't answer her summons. It's...complicated to understand, I know. But all you need to know is that it more than likely isn't a good thing. We need to meet with the Greybeards now to tell them the news and seek their advice. This confirmed fears for Katara and that's why he had this panic attack, I believe.", Teldryn softly explained but sounding a bit frazzled himself.

"High Hrothgar...", Fayleen muttered once it all made sense to her. "I hear that hike is suicide."

A croaky laugh got stuck in Teldryn's throat. "It's not far from it, actually."

They both looked over at Katara sleeping as another loud clap of thunder boomed overhead, the strobe-like lightning flashing through the windows giving some brief light to the gloomy room.

"I do hope this storm passes quickly, we need to utilize all the daylight we can.", Teldryn said as he grabbed a half empty wine bottle of the table and peeked into its pourer.

Snow, and lots of it. It fell down in a light rain. The air was chilly and she could see her breath in the form of steam when she breathed. The faint sound of seagulls echoed from somewhere below, and a familiar ore smell filled her lungs. She could almost feel the chill nipping at her nose and cheeks. Katara knew she exactly where she was at - she was back home, in the Skaal village.

Katara's eyes widened and she feverishly looked around. The cottages, the Great Hall, the smelter, the flaying station - everything was just as she remembered it. There was just one thing missing...the Skaal. There were no torches lit, no fires burning in the common area, and no candles flickering in windowsills. No sign of life anywhere. She looked up at the sky, only it wasn't the sky. It was a black void. As if someone had taken away the moon and every star.

Katara rushed to the Great Hall and eagerly grasped for the knob of the door, but her hand materialized straight through it. She couldn't touch the handle, she shouldn't feel anything. She knew something was wrong, that this had to have been an illusion. She was being tricked. She looked all around her when the firepit in the middle of the common area began to ignite a flame on its own with no hand nearby striking a match. She looked at it with curious eyes as the blaze grew, and grew...

It began spreading from its pit and setting a blaze to nearby benches and the wooden flaying station. Katara shielded her eyes and stepped back from the raging fire as much as she could. She grimaced at the heat as it rose out of control and took hold of the wooden cottages lining the village. Katara watched in horror as this faux version of her home burned and raged against a black, snowy void.

The heat became too much and Katara quickly sprinted for the snowy slopes she'd use when she used to walk down to the shore. She could not see the Ghost Sea, just more black emptiness with a ledge. She quickly approached the edge of the snowy existence and the fire was hot on her trail. Katara spun around and quickly fell to her knees, out of breath and hopeless. Tears streaming down her face as she came face to face with her firey death.

Just then she felt a rush of icy cold air and her eyes flashed open again. She heard echoing and glanced around her. Hard grassy terrain lay underneath her knees. Off to her sides stood statues of dragon heads. They were made out of stone and stuck out in a powerful fashion against the dark void that still hung in the sky above her. The statues lined all around her, almost in a circular fashion.

Katara's tears stopped but she still had an unsettling feeling. She knew this was an illusion...wasnt it? It felt more real than anything she'd ever experienced. She could physically smell the air around her. It smelled of stone and sulfur.

Sulfur. That was an unsettling familiar smell...

"So...", a deep, very distinctive voice bellowed out like a loud purr from the darkness. "This is the one they call 'Dovahkiin'."

Katara saw his unmistakable piercing red eyes emerge first through the black void ahead of her. His pitch black, scaly snout and neck followed. His teeth were white as pearls, and sharper than any steel Katara has ever seen forged. His horns were prominent and protruding. They shot back then curved slightly upwards and high into the air. Katara never thought she'd see a dragon smile but there was almost a smiling snarl spread across his scaled lips.

Alduin, the World-Eater.

Katara slowly raised off her knees and to her feet. Inside she was struck with awe, intimidation, anger, and fear. But on the outside she only remained wide eyed and emotionless.

"The World-Eater...", she spoke clearly and declaratively. Alduin bellowed a low pitiful laugh.

"That's what they've taken to calling me. A bestowment of honor, if I say so. But what of you?" Alduin drew his neck closer to Katara to get a better look at her. His red eyes scanning her limbs and armor, his nostrils flexed as he sniffed the air around her. "They call you 'Dragon Born', but I can only smell the faintest trace of Dov blood. You're a mere half-breed, wandering this life as your mortal flesh and bones. How can something so delicate be a slayer of Dov?", he finished lowly, looking down at her.

Katara looked back up at his tall stature. "The legends are true. They are written. I am fulfilling my destiny. You and I both know how this ends, Alduin.", she said to him sternly.

"You mortals forget how limited you are, a weak and hive minded species.", Alduin said loudly as he raised his massive black head. "I keep showing you your fate, Dovahkiin. You do not cease. Man was not meant to rule this land. Such beauty belongs to a race of superiority. This is one battle you cannot win."

Katara's knees went weak for a moment. She was face to face with the destroyer of worlds and his prideful ego and arrogance. She feared him, yet hated him with a passion. She realized that it was Adluin's doing showing her these horrific images of her world set a blaze. He was toying with her, trying to wear down her will.

"I know how to defeat you, how to render you flightless.", Katara spoke up softly as she gazed into his blood red glowing eyes. Alduin almost scoffed.

"You do not know that power yet, Dovahkiin. You do not even speak our native tongue. How can a Dov fear a mortal such as yourself?", he replied back pridefully. Katara recognized his massive power looming over her. It was the same power she felt when face to face with Parthurnaax and Odahviing. Although she would not bow to this Dov, he was not worthy.

She raised her hand slowly, stretching it forward as if beckoning him to come closer so that she may test it for herself. Alduin cocked his head in way similar to that of a curious stray dog one would stumble upon on the roads. He was quiet for a moment, but he lowered his large head and allowed Katara to run her open over his scales. She felt the cool roughness of his armored body. Katara looked up at him, Adluin's large neck just inches away from her face. Unlike the doorknob of the Great Hall, she could feel Aldiun...real as ever.

"Your head will look good mounted over my fireplace.", she quietly whispered to him. He raised his massive head back and looked at her with wide eyes, then he bellowed a low unamusing laugh. Just then the black void around them began to clear but another image appeared above them. It was fire, just as she had seen her village moments ago. Alduin lifted his head towards an open space in the blackness. An image of Odahviing shrieking and roaring with flames engulfing him appeared. He was crying out in pain as his wings unfurled and tried reaching into the blackness. Katara withdrew her hand and looked on horrified at the image of Odahviing burning to death in front of her. She tried telling herself that it was only an illusion, but the smell of his burning scales were so pungent and real. His roars of agony were loud. The inferno around the statues of dragon heads grew, she could feel the heat all around her. She became frightened.

Alduin leaned down to her again, noticing her wide eyes and trembling hands. She could smell the sulfur coming from his scaly skin, she could hear his low deep throaty breathing hot against her ear.

"You can take comfort knowing that I will keep you alive long enough to see my reign come to light, and to see your people and your land burn in my fury.", he lowly whispered to her. She closed her eyes as the fire spread and grew around her, swarming her.

Katara shot straight up out of bed, breathing heavily and sweating profusely.


	16. Sixteen: Yol Toor Shul

Chapter Sixteen: "Yol Toor Shul"

The cobble stone road was still wet beneath their feet. Small puddles pooled in the crevices between the stones. Excess rain fell heavily from the leaves of trees that lined at their sides. The sky was still grey and clouded them from the evening sun, but the storm had long since passed and their intended path was soggy but clear. They were nearly a hundred miles from their cozy, small home now. Teldryn was right in waking Katara as soon as the storm passed so that they may hit the road and take advantage of the daylight. They had spent most of the afternoon and evening traveling.

Katara rode on the horse, much to Teldryn's advice. She remembered feeling ill after realizing Odahviing wasn't coming. But she was also almost certain Alduin played a hand in it. Her dream - no, nightmare - flashed through her mind several times since the moment she awakened from it. It left an eerie vibe with her that made Katara both weary and anxious. However her bottom was growing sore and her legs restless, she wished to walk the remaining miles until Teldryn found a spot to make camp.

"So then you corner the damn thing and stick your blade in its abdomen. Once it's dead you have to knead at the fangs until the venom comes out. Yes, it's gross. Yes, it's worth it.", Fayleen said to Katara, who had asked her what Fayleen's favorite poison was. She replied with frostbite spider venom then proceeded to go into detail about acquiring its potent venom and using it in stealth kills. Teldryn walked alongside the horse and made a disgusted face but Katara wearily smiled and scrunched her face. She hopped off the horse with a soft swoop of her leg and groaned a bit from her stiffness as she began walking alongside, clasping the reigns in her hand.

The scenery had changed from the orange hue of the Rift to tall lush green pine trees dotting the roads and mountain sides. The air still felt warm but crisp and clear. The smell of the pine trees distinct sap became stronger. The sun had set by this point but a small sliver of light illuminated the horizon above the tree line.

"When are we stopping to make camp?", Katara asked Teldryn looking over at him. He opened up the map that was rolled loosely in his hands and fingered his way down the road they were traveling til his forefinger landed on a spot several paces ahead of them.

"Its a patch of dense forestry but it'll serve shelter from anymore rain and refuge from the road.", he replied.

"It's been a while since I've slept under the trees it feels like - few weeks at least.", Fayleen said from the side, her hood was pulled down and her black curls clung to her neck.

"Well tomorrow we will be sleeping in High Hrothgar, so enjoy it.", Teldryn said with a small smile.

A few miles down the road the little light remaining in the sky had receded and the three of them made their way off the road and into a thicket of tall, full pine trees. They carefully led the horse through it. Teldryn halted them in front of small clearing, a sparse few trees had grown far enough apart that a small circle formed in on the ground - just large enough for three bed rolls and a small fire. Fayleen tied the horse reigns to one of the trees around them and stuck a carrot in its mouth. Teldryn began unloading the bed rolls and Katara grabbed some of their food from a burlap sack. They were famished, choosing not to eat this morning so they could save what little food they have left for the journey. She was sure the Greybeards would have enough food and drink - and hopefully room. Or at least allow them to sleep inside the temple. Making that journey up the mountain was going to take half their day, not to mention the couple hour walk to the base of High Hrothgar from their campsite tonight. Thats even if they left at dawn's first light. Coming back down the mountain in the dark tomorrow was simply not an option, not with frost trolls, wolves, and subzero temperatures the entire way down.

Teldryn went to work gathering some sticks and any large branches he could find. There wasn't much to set up, which worked well with the space they were limited to. Three dingy, thin bedrolls sprawled out on the forest floor while Teldryn went to work lighting the bundle of wood in the center. It's embers came to a slow rise and burned as the woods around them finally fell dark, the light crackling and flickering between the trees.

Katara skewered the meat and potatoes and placed them gingerly over the fire so they could roast over the flame. Fayleen looked at the meat on the stick.

"Elk? I'm so sick of elk.", she grimaced kicking a small twig by her foot.

"It's all we had left.", Katara replied plainly as she sat down on her bed roll and watched it cook.

"I bet I could find a juicy rabbit in those thickets.", she finished as she reached for the bow strapped to her back. Teldryn raised his brow.

"A bird in hand is better than two in the bush.", he replied as if reciting an old fable passed down. He was referring to the meat they already had cooking. "Besides, we need to eat and rest so we can rise early."

Fayleen gave him a smart look and reached behind her to fish an arrow out of its holster on her back. "You forget there was a time before I met you and I fended for myself, you know.", she answered matter-of-factly and readied the bow in her quiver, aiming the bow and arrow loosely at the ground so it could be raised in a battle ready position in a snap. She glanced up at the trees around them and noticed the clouds were beginning to give way to a blueish black night sky. Stars were slowly emerging from hiding. "Fifteen, twenty minutes tops.", she said as she began walking into the thick of the pine trees, straw and grass crunching under her feet as she moved. Teldryn rolled his eyes and shook his head lightly.

"Don't pretend that her fire doesn't make your heart flutter.", Katara weakly teased him once Fayleen had disappeared into the woods. Teldryn sharply looked over at her and pursed his blue lips.

"Well the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, so she better bring back a fat hare.", he replied with a slight smile. The two of them looked on at the elk chops roasting over the small fire.

"How are you feeling since the nightmare?", Teldryn asked almost business-like. Katara shrugged her shoulders.

"I have this weight hanging on me. The turmoil across Skyrim continues to grow and Alduin toys with me. But despite all that - I still don't feel ready to face him yet." She shyed away for a moment. "I'm only hoping the Greybeards can guide me on my path and help me become ready to face that beast.", Katara finished. Teldryn fiddled with a pebble under his foot.

"What choice do those old coots have? You're the savior of Skyrim.", he sympathetically offered her a smile. Just then they heard light crunching coming from the underbrush behind them. Fayleen emerged from the thicket, her bow strapped to her back and no rabbit in her hands.

"You two should see this..."

Katara and Teldryn followed Fayleen winding in between the pine trees and over pine straw and dusty forest floor. Fayleen said nothing more as she led the way to a rock formation that had big pine trees growing around it and hanging over it. In the center of the rock was a cave. The closer they got to it the more Katara had a feeling in the pit of her stomach grow. It wasn't a bad feeling, in fact it felt welcoming. It was almost a nice change from how she had been feeling, but she couldn't explain why she felt this suddenly.

Fayleen led them to the mouth of the dark cave and stared into it. "It's been a while since I've stumbled upon a cave.", she said almost proudly, as if finding some treasure. Teldryn wasn't too enthused.

He lit a bright white orb in his palm, it illuminated the outside of the cave and their faces in the dark. He waved his hand in front of the mouth of the cave to reveal a black emptiness that dove parallel to the forest ground. Vines and branches were growing along the inner walls of the opening. The bottom could not be seen.

"It's a dark, musty cave - what's not to find appealing? Now let's go. The elk will char.", he said as he kept his orb lit and began to turn away. Katara held her hand up, staring down into the cave.

"Wait.", she asked Teldryn. "It's not bad, trust me. I know it doesn't make sense but I have a strange familiar feeling - a good one. Ah, like, oh!", she snapped her fingers as they idea rushed into her thoughts. "It's the feeling similar to absorbing my first Shout. One of power and peace and understanding. That's the best I can describe it.", she finished as she looked at Teldryn and Fayleen. She felt as if the cave was calling for her, or at least something in it.

Teldryn looked at her with a confused look then back at the dark cave. Fayleen was grinning slightly, no doubt itching for an adventure. He sighed heavily and hovered his lit orb over the opening again. "Fine. But for the sake of both you we better find us a damn rabbit in there.", he replied hesitantly.

The three of them crawled their way into the cave with Katara leading the way. Teldryn's orb illuminated the walls until eventually the path in front of them grew wider and they were able to walk without having to duck their heads. The further into the cave they ventured the stronger this feeling grew in Katara. Something was beckoning her in this cave.

Light water dripped from the sides of the walls and there was small puddles on the floor as a result. Fayleen drew her bow and readied an arrow to be on the safe side. Teldryn had his jagged dagger in his left hand and the orb lighting their way in his other. Katara didn't even think to draw a weapon, the energy around her felt too welcoming to be something malicious. Still, they proceeded with caution. All around them was quiet aside from the occasional dripping and echoing of their footsteps on the rocky cave floor.

They emerged into an open room and Katara heard chanting. It was loud and it's rhythm aligned with her heart beat, feeling it reverberate through her entire being. Her eyes were wide and she was staring at Teldryn and Fayleen.

"Do you hear that?", she asked curiously and almost excitedly. The chanting was in the language of ancient Nordic verses. She didn't understand what they were saying but she understood the feeling. Teldryn and Fayleen looked all around them and strained to hear the chanting, but they both shook their heads and looked at her as if she were insane. Katara's eyes scanned the open room. There were pine tree vines and roots and stumps that grew around the walls of the room. Smaller rocks and pebbles littered the floor. But there was something against the wall that stood out to Katara. It appeared to be a stone slab, and very faintly there were symbols and inscriptions written in a different language across it. Mossy vines and roots grew over the wall, making it hard to see to the naked eye but Katara was drawn to it. She tiptoed further into the room and closer to the wall, the chanting beating loud in her ears only.

"Careful, Kat.", Teldryn lightly suggested as she moved closer into the openness of the room. Fayleen followed Katara with her eyes and slowly stepped into the room, her bow and arrow still ready. Teldryn again sighed and joined them in the room.

Katara peered at the stone wall with the words written scribbled in it. Her eyes were drawn to one word, which began to illuminate and project itself to Katara. Her eyes widened at the blue word that was glowing off the rock itself - a Shout. Teldryn and Fayleen watched her move closer to the word, her palm gingerly held open as if to brush her hand over its rough inscription. They could not see the word glowing or hear it beckoning to Katara.

"What's going on here?", Fayleen asked Teldryn in a whisper. Her face was one of curiosity and confusion.

"Something good I hope...", he quietly replied, his eyes never leaving Katara.

The word grew brighter and the chanting was ringing in her ears. Katara placed her hand over the glowing word and felt its aurora enter her. It was the same feeling she got when she learned her first Shout from Master Bolli in the courtyard of High Hrothgar. She drank in its power, feeling it surge through her. It was a powerful and sacred feeling that felt good to her. Images of flames flashed through her mind but for once it wasn't malicious. One word kept standing out in her mind, as loud as the chanting - "Fire".

Katara absorbed the word and then inhaled and exhaled deeply, regaining her composure from what she just felt. She then turned back to Teldryn and Fayleen, who were staring at her like she was crazy.

"You two really didn't feel that?", she asked genuinely with a small smile on her face, like a giddy child. Teldryn and Fayleen raised their brows and shook their heads in unison. Suddenly the vines and trees around the walls began to twitch and shuffle. All three of them took notice and watched in silence as the branches and trunks came alive. Three figures began emerging from the trees. They were almost humanoid but were made out of the branches and twigs themselves with eyes that were glowing green. They all had long sharp fingers and feet that were bound with twigs and branches and antler-like leaves that protruded from their skulls. Spriggans.

One Spriggan each levitated their way to Katara, Teldryn, and Fayleen. Fayleen stepped back and began pumping arrows into one of them, a high pitch shrieking coming from it with every successful hit. Teldryn started swinging his sword at his opponent but it was swift in dodging his attacks. Katara went to reach for the greatsword at her back before coming to the staggering realization that she had left her weapon back at the campfire - a foolish move on her part. She looked down at her hands instead and began focusing on a frost spell, feeling the cool picks in her palms.

Teldryn grew fatigued when he realized he wasn't able to land a successful hit on the swift spriggan. He quickly sheathed his sword and his hands ignited into flames. He began wildly flinging fireballs at the Spriggan, who was squealing sharply at the fire latching itself onto its branches and limbs. It burned in its spot, twigs and branches crumbling and cracking to the cave floor. Just as that one died, another just like it began emerging from a tree on the wall. It came shrieking and clawing for Teldryn.

Fayleen was just as busy fending off her Spriggan. She was having to meticulously dodge its clawed lunges at her throat and torso due to her still being in the dingy pink tunic that Katara had let her borrow last night after climbing out of the Rift canal. They had yet to make it to the nearest town so she could buy armor. For Fayleen, an unarmored battle with a Spriggan can be deadly.

Finally Katara was able to produce the frost spell in her palms. She readied her stance and focused her aim on the Spriggan closing in on her. Katara flung a large ice spike directly at the it, hitting it in its chest. It staggered back for a moment and she could see ice cracking and breaking its limb in the spot where it hit. Katara then flung another and another until the Spriggan was slowed to a complete stop and froze to death. It was taxing on her, but Katara liked the power she felt dealing magicka.

Fayleen continued pumping arrows into her Spriggan but her efforts were in vain and she was running out of iron arrows with each shot. The Spriggan closed in on her quickly, it's long limbs reaching for her legs. Fayleen hastily threw her bow off to the side and raised her hands in a magicka stance, producing ice spikes in her palms.

With every Spriggan they killed another one spawned from the trees along the walls of the cave. The three of them were forced into a tight bundle back to back with half a dozen Spriggans emerging from the vines and roots. They had their magicka drawn still but they were fatigued and sweating under the mugginess of the cave, the burnt Spriggans, and humidity. Teldryn created one large fireball in the middle of his two hands and shot it at a Spriggan off to their side. It exploded the woodland creature into a ball of flames and it fell to the floor in a pile a charred twigs and limbs.

"Fire! We need to use fire!", Teldryn hollered at the girls with sweat running down his temples as the loud shrieking continued to hum around them. Fayleen anxiously looked at her hands and scrunched her face to one of deep thought. She was trying to conjure flames but it looked as if she were sticking a match with no luck. Fire wasn't a school of destruction she was particularly knowledgeable of. She was sweating and trembling, tears almost welling up in her eyes. The Spriggans moved closer and closer with their sharp claws swiping for her.

Katara heard Teldryn and that word came to her again, like a faint whisper in her conscience - fire. She focused on the word, she felt it in her belly. It's meaning grew both in her mind and her soul. She felt a familiar feeling building in her chest, making it way up to her throat. Katara pushed Teldryn and Fayleen behind her and thrust herself towards the Spriggans.

"YOL...Toor-Shul!", she Shouted at the horde of angry woodland creatures surrounding them. Like her first Shout, this felt natural. She suddenly understood what just happened, why the word rang in her soul like a pounding chant - it was a Shout.

As if she was a Dov herself, a wave of flames emerged from Katara's mouth with power and fury. It's force and heat thrust her onto the cave floor, landing on her back. Fire engulfed most of the room, almost in a full circle around the three of them. It ignited a couple of the Spriggans, each one of them setting a blaze to the one next to it, until all the horrid creatures were twisting and shrieking in a burning pain as the inferno raged in front of them. They cracked and snapped and one by one crumbled to the ground, the fire dying with them in a pile of ash.

Katara was trembling as she instinctively felt her mouth and throat with her frail ran hands. She was positive that she was burned as well, with the force of her Shout. To her surprise there was not a singe or cut on her. She wasn't bleeding from her mouth or neck, she only felt the warmth vibrating in her throat as it slowly receded. Teldryn and Fayleen stood behind her with their arms drawn over their faces to shield themselves from the fire.

"Katara! Are you alright?", Teldryn said in a concerned and amazed tone as he knelt down beside her, grabbing her shoulder to turn her around and inspect for wounds. She was wide eyed and shaky but she wasn't weak like she expected. She was able to get off the ground and shake herself off.

Fayleen stood there in awe. She was shaking and a tear rolled down her cheek. "Was that - was that fire?", she asked almost in disbelief.

Katara looked all around at the piles of what was once Spriggans just moments ago. She only nodded to Fayleen, her eyes still large as saucers. Teldryn wiped the sweat from his face with his red glove and walked over to Fayleen.

"What about you - are you okay?", he asked Fayleen calmly but with concern on his face. Fayleen had nearly escaped death not having armor on and only a futile weapon among woodland beings. She was lightly scarred but nothing major, luckily.

"I could've gotten you two killed.", she replied back quickly and softly. "It was foolish of me to ever insist on coming in here."

"No, it was my doing.", Katara said finally speaking up. "But it was meant to happen." She was speaking in regards to her newly acquired power. "I would not have let us perish here.", she finished looking at the two of them sternly. Teldryn and Fayleen looked back at her deeply. Fayleen stared at Katara in a new way that she hadn't before up to this point - one of trust.

The three of them left behind the burnt inside of the cave and headed back to their campfire. They only picked at the elk chop, which was lightly charred from over cooking. They slept by the low burning fire under the moonlight.

"Get up. We have to get on the move. Long day ahead of us.", Katara said alertly as she grabbed her greatsword off the ground and strapped it to her back. Teldryn and Fayleen were stirring in their bedrolls. The sun had barely broke through the sky, even only a scarce bird was chirping somewhere throughout the forest. There was dew on the pine needles that lay on the ground, as well as a thin fog that hovered motionless above the forest floor. The air felt crisp but not cold. Although it was only going to get colder as they traveled - much colder.

Teldryn rose to his feet and then extended his hand down to Fayleen, who accepted and allowed him to hoist her to her feet. She brushed the dirt off the side of her belted tunic, which was singed and dirtied from last night.

"The nearest vendor or town we come across I need to fish out some coin for light armor.", she lightly declared before smiling a bit. "Or steal some."

"You need a pelt as well. Going to be frigid on the mountain.", Katara replied as she strapped her folded up bedroll to the back of the horse. Teldryn groaned at her words.

"That unforgiving cold...", he said with a shiver. Last time they traveled the 7,000 steps Teldryn had grown nauseous and ill from the frigid attitude. It made Katara glad Fayleen was traveling alongside them, although she hoped she could also handle the bitter cold with her half-Mer blood.

"We hit Ivarstead just at the base of High Hrothgar. One of the shops should have armor and maybe some oil cloths for torches. They would help us stay warmer.", Teldryn said while wrapping up his bedroll.

"Ivarstead...that dreary town that got attacked by the dragon not long ago?", Fayleen asked as she fastened her brown boots to her feet and strapped the bow to her back. Katara untied the horse from a nearby tree trunk and looked it over to ensure all their belongings were up off the ground.

"Yes, we were there when it happened. That's when the Greybeards summoned me.", Katara answered back. She clicked her tongue for the horse lurch forward as she stood alongside it with the reigns in her hand.

"What are they like - the Greybeards?", Fayleen asked as the three of them began slowly making their way through the forestry.

"Old and loud.", Teldryn replied quickly. Katara couldn't help but giggle.

"They're masters of the Voice, one of the greatest gifts bestowed upon man. They're a secluded bunch. And yes...elderly.", Katara answered her seriously but with a smile.

The three of them made their way down the cobblestone road. It was only an hour or so journey to Ivarstead, then from there an hour - maybe more - to the top of High Hrothgar. But it was going to be a strenuous few hours once they began the ascent up the mountain. The road going out of the Rift and into the Whiterun hold were quiet and scarcely traveled today. Only a farmer or two passed by, generously nodding their head and offering a smile at Katara, Teldryn, and Fayleen, to which they returned the gesture and continued on their ways. The solidarity gave them time to chat about everything under the sun while the horse trotted alongside them obediently.

"Don't think I didn't see your ice spikes back in that cave last night.", Fayleen humbly said to Katara as the sun shone brightly on the open road around them. The road was built along the edge of a ridge that overlooked a very dry valley dotted with geysers and sparse dead twiggy trees. It was one of the more peculiar landscapes of Skyrim, something that stood out like a sore thumb against the snow covered mountains looming in the distant skyline. Katara remembered traveling it the first time her and Teldryn came to Ivarstead. "You've learned from our lessons.", she finished almost proudly.

Katara glanced at her sheepishly. "It felt natural in that moment. Such an incredible feeling, magicka."

"Yes, but perhaps you could use some flame training...", Teldryn lightly teased Fayleen at her inability to produce a fire spell last night. She rolled her eyes annoyedly and scoffed.

"Then why don't you teach me then, since you're the expert.", she said in a mocking voice as she stopped and assumed a battle stance at Teldryn. In a swift motion she flung a small isicle at Tedlryn's chest armor. It shattered at impact but gave him a jolt when it sharply hit.

"Foolish girl!", he hollered as he conjured a fireball in his hand and slung it at Fayleen. She had plenty of time to dodge it and she did, causing it to miss and hit the side of the mountain, igniting a small patch of weeds growing from the side.

"Nice miss, Tel.", she cackled, holding her stomach in laughter. His face scrunched in playful anger.

"Will you two stop it and get married already?", Katara teased from alongside the horse. She had a sly smile on her face.

This surely made Fayleen cringe, although her cheeks flushed a bashful shade of pink. "I don't like him, you need to cease with your teasing before I put an ice spike through your heart."

"Well that's unfortunate because I do like you.", Teldryn plainly replied to her. Fayleen looked at him with surprised eyes and went to open her mouth to say something but Katara spoke up first.

"Look.", she said as she pointed up the road at the tops of houses and businesses that were beginning to take shape up ahead, the town of Ivarstead growing on the horizon.

"Three jugs of milk and a venison chop, please.", Katara gave her order to the innkeeper in Ivarstead. Fayleen had left them at the door to slunk around the town in search of armor and a bear pelt to steal. Even though they had the coin to spare, she insisted. Said her fingers were itching after no longer being able to go on runs with the Thieves Guild. Katara and Teldryn didn't protest her.

The innkeeper laid her items on the bar counter and Teldryn scooped them up, taking a swig of milk from one of the jugs and handing it to Katara. She sipped from the jug then placed it securely in her knapsack and fastened it back. They wanted more, it was delicious and cold. But they knew they needed it for the climb up the mountain. They heard the sound of a lute lightly strumming. Katara looked to the other side of the inn and bar and found that it was the same bard from the day the dragon attacked. His eyes met Katara's and he lit up.

"Aye, everyone. It's the Dragonborn!", he exclaimed once he recognized her from that day. Everyone in the inn turned to look, roughly a dozens sets of eyes suddenly on her. The room was silent for a moment as some patrons held their mugs or soup spoons frozen in their hands.

"What are you doing here?", one man hollered out.

"Dragon attacks are still happening and you're drinking milk in a bar?", another yelled.

"My ma and pa said Graytown was attacked just a few days ago!", cried an angry woman.

Katara stared glanced between the room of upset people, all calling out things to her. She stammered to find words. Off to the side she heard the creak of the door and felt the air in the room shift as Fayleen walked into the inn, donning a brown hunter's getup. It wasn't anything special, just brown pants with a brown and green vested tunic. But it was made of hide and would serve as more armor than her maids dress did. She stopped once she was inside the door and watched the patrons yelling at Katara and Teldryn, eyes wide in utter confusion and mouth hung slightly open.

Katara and Teldryn slung their knapsacks over their backs and slowly started to walk to the door. Katara tried to muster an uncomfortable smile. "I'm - I'm on my way to speak with the Greybeards as we speak.", she stammered as they approached Fayleen and quickly pushed open the door open and outside. Teldryn untied the horse from a nearby post and the three of them quickly left the town.

Once they were out of view of the town Fayleen turned to Katara and Teldryn. "What was that all about?"

"Stupid townsfolk who don't know a damn thing.", Teldryn said bitterly. Katara hung her head low for a moment. "Don't listen to them, Kat. You've done nothing but try to help since the moment you were thrown into this mess."

"I know. But they aren't wrong. Dragon attacks are still happening because of me. I just want to speak with the Greybeards.", she solemnly declared.

"Well, shall we?", Teldryn said as the three of them approached the base of the mountain and stared up at its massive stature.


	17. Seventeen: A Pack of Yellow Eyes

Chapter Seventeen: A Pack of Yellow Eyes

Katara hoped she wouldn't have to make this climb after the first time they did, but her she was bracing herself with her bear pelt against the harsh frigid winds that were lashing at her face and body while making her second ascend up High Hrothgar. Teldryn and Fayleen had their pelts hunched over their heads and shoulders, shielding their elven ears from the blizzard. The three of them had not said much to each other since beginning the flight up the mountain just less than an hour ago. They tried to conserve as much energy as they could for the remainder of the hike. Katara was fairing the best out of all three of them, having been born in a blizzard and exposed to winter's harsh cold her entire life. But still, it was taxing.

"How are two feeling?", she hollered back to Teldryn and Fayleen. They were only a mere few feet apart from each other but the wind made everything so loud around them.

Teldryn only gave a thumbs up as he watched his footing. Fayleen held the reigns of the horse tightly in her hands as she guided the stallion.

"Are you sure it's wise to bring the horse?", Fayleen asked to nobody in particular.

"Horses were made for this. He'll fair better than any of us.", Teldryn answered loudly and swiftly.

They were approaching their rest point on the mountain. It was important for them to take swigs from their cold milk and catch their breaths. To Katara's surprise, Teldryn was doing alright and Fayleen the same. Katara fished around a torch from the hide bag strapped to the side of the horse. She passed it to Teldryn, who turned his back to the whipping wind and conjuring a bit of fire in his palm. Carefully he lit the dampened oil soaked clothes twined around the wooden torch.

"You weren't kidding when you said it was a sight to see.", Fayleen said as she peered over the edge of the stone step. Her eyes were wide as she stared down the snowy slope and at the land below them. The snow and clouds made the landscape appear as a greyish blur.

"Aye. Ready?", Katara answered back quickly as she looked up at the remainder of their hike. She was eager to speak with the Greybeards - and Parthurnaax. Teldryn and Fayleen nodded. Teldryn led them with his burning torch, Fayleen behind him with the horse's reigns in her hands and Katara following beside her.

They made it several paces further up the side of the mountain and came to a portion of the trail that had wooding on the sides. Areas like this were prime for mountain wolves to roam for small game like goat and rabbit - or the unwary traveler. The horse sensed something as they reached the shrubbery. His ears darted and flicked from side to side, his snorts becoming more sharp with anxiety. The three of them noticed and simultaneously turned their attention to the woods. Their vision was diminished from the blizzardy fall of the snow, making the scene in front of them grey. Although as clear as day a set of glowing yellow eyes stared back at them. Then another, and another, and one more.

Teldryn gulped as he drew his sword from his hip and steadied the torch in his other hand. Fayleen drew her bow and readied an arrow, and Katara unsheathed the shiny steel greatsword from her back and held it at a ready position. The three of them knew what they were and how to deal with them, they were just like any other wolf in Skyrim. Only...on the side of the tallest mountain in Skyrim.

The pack slowly emerged from the wooded treeline, barring their radiant white jaws. They had fur that was so grey it was almost black, it stood ruffled and flared at their necks and haunches. One of the wolves snarled and nipped at the air between it and the frightened horse that was whinning and shifting its hooves in its place. Fayleen let go of the reigns to fire an arrow directly into the neck of the wolf. The other three behind it lept into action with their fangs ready for blood. Teldryn began blocking his wolf with his blade, eventually able to gut the feral beast when it was reared up to chomp down on him. Fayleen's wolf still charged at her despite being hit by one of her arrows in its neck. The wolf pounced quickly on her. Fayleen's instincts took over and she used her wooden bow as a shield against the snarling and rabid wolf that was thrashing on top of her. Drool and foam from the beast was falling onto her face with each straining nip by the wolf. Teldryn noticed immediately and began to rush over to her. Katara was swinging her greatsword at her wolf but it kept dodging the blows, it seemed preoccupied watching the movement of the other two wolves.

Teldryn quickly rushed to Fayleen's side and plucked the rabid wolf off of her by the scruff of its nape. In one fell swoop he sliced the creature's throat with his blade, letting it drop lazily to the floor in a mass of bloody black fur.

The wolf that had hung back during the scuffle now saw its opportunity and siezed it. It lept several feet from the treeline and landed on the hide of the horse, causing it to rear up and stagger. The reigns that lay on the ground had wrapped around Teldryn's leg. The horse stumbled back from the force of the hit as the wolf began to gnaw at its legs. With a high pitched whinnie the horse with the wolf atop him lost his footing and toppled over the edge of the mountain. As the horse fell the reigns tightened around Teldryn's ankle and swept him to the ground before pulling him over the edge as well.

"Teldryn!", Fayleen shrieked as she lurched forward him, chasing his body that was being dragged over the edge of High Hrothgar. The reigns caught on a large root that stuck out from the side of the mountain, suspending the horse and a terrified Teldryn Sero off the snowy ledge in the air.

Katara saw what just happened in the blink of an eye and stood their frozen for a moment looking on in horror. Just then she felt a great force push her abruptly to the cold ground and a large set of calloused paws pushing hard on her chest and throat. She had turned her attention away from her wolf and it now had her pinned and snapping its muscular jaws at her neck. Katara's greatsword fell to the ground when she was hit, the only thing she could do was feverishly grab and claw at the beast's neck, punch it in the face, scratch at its eyes - anything to get it off her.

Fayleen was leaning as far over the ledge as she could with her arm extended widely out to Teldryn. "You have to grab my hand - Teldryn, dammit!", she cried through anger and fear over the roaring blizzard. Teldryn trembled and almost whimpered, for the first time Fayleen had seen tears of fear stream down his face. He extended his arm up from the branch to try to meet her hand but the horse was flailing below, the wolf was thrown off its back and sent sailing to its demise at the base of the moutain below with a whimper and shriek. Teldryn glanced down and only saw a grew snowy abyss below them. It would be a quick death, he thought to himself.

The branch began to crack and break with each jolt from the horse. Teldryn wearily looked up at Fayleen, who was crying as she leaned even further down to him. He looked at her almost lovingly for a moment. In some way that he could not describe, seeing Fayleen's face in his final moments gave him a bit of peace. Teldryn reached out his hand one more time in a last attempt to find her hand.

Katara became furious with the wolf on top of her. She clasped her hands as tight as she could around the creature's neck and squeezed. The harder she strangled the wolf she also focused on a frost spell. Her icy hands began freezing the wolf's neck, closing its throat and seizing his breathing. She screamed into its face as she strangled it with all her might.

The horse twisted one more time and Teldryn closed his eyes and awaited the last snap. He heard it, although it wasn't the snap he anticipated. The weight from the horse caused the reigns to break loose and shear. The horse went plummeting down the side of High Hrothgar with a echoing cry of agony. The lifted weight caused the branch Teldryn was strapped to to bend upwards, his hand connecting with Fayleen's. Their adrenaline fueled strength allowed them to work together to hoist Teldryn over the edge. He fell onto Fayleen's lap, they were both breathing the heaviest they ever have. Katara threw her wolf off her and rushed over to the two of them, warm tears flowing as well. She registered that Teldryn was still alive and she wrapped her arms around him and Fayleen.

The three of them emerged through the quiet temple doors without so much as a knock. They were bruised and scratched and dangerously cold. Less than an hour or more outside and they'd surely freeze to death. It was silent inside, only the faint echo of the large iron door closing shut behind them.

"Dovahkiin...", Master Arengir said half questionablely, half declaratively as he emerged from one of the long hallways. "And guests.", he added plainly nodding at a weary Teldryn and Fayleen.

Katara went to bow and open her mouth but Master Arengir spoke again. "You met with Odahviing. I can tell it - you've felt the pride of a Dov.", he said.

Katara nodded. "Yes, but I haven't seen or heard from him since.", she sadly and softly replied. Master Arengir almost seemed disappointed in this news. He looked down for a moment.

"Yes, I see.", he said as he shook off a troubled look on his face. "No doubt you'll want to speak with Parthurnaax about this. Perhaps he can help." He scanned the faces of the three of them, evidently tired and dirty from the climb up and the wolf attack. He extended his hand in a welcoming manner and a smile crossed his face. "You three need to warm up, a couple of beds maybe and some food for the night."

"Thank you, Master.", Katara lightly said as she bowed and the three of them turned to walk down the hall he was motioning to.

"The gods spoke to me, Dovahkiin. They told me you're following in the Way of the Voice.", Master Arengir said to Katara as she walked by. He had a warm smile on his old face. Katara watched Teldryn and Fayleen turn the corner of the hallway and smiled back at the Greybeard.

"Fire - it's amazing.", she simply replied. He nodded his head in agreement. As a Greybeard he had the power and knowledge of a variety of Shouts. He dedicated his entire life to studying and meditating on the Elder knowledge, the same as the other Masters of the Voice. Inferno was a Shout he knew well, but rarely practiced or used. Katara looked at him deeply for a moment.

"A lot has happened since being on High Hrothgar last.", she said. Master Arengir returned her genuine expression and reached up to clasp his wrinkled hand on her armored shoulder.

"I know, Dovahkiin. You grow weary. You need rest.", he softly said.

"I need to speak with Parthurnaax. I need to find out what can be done, what's happened to Odahviing..."

"You have many questions, child. Some of which yet to have an answer written in stone.", Master Arengir spoke up over her. Katara looked away for a moment and nodded. She tried to calm herself.

"Parthurnaax has not spoken to us since your arrival in Skyrim. He has reserved his council to himself...or you. He is the ultimate Master of the Voice, we do not question his leadership. He has never led us wrong before. He will surely have more answers for you, Katara.", Master Arengir finished with a sympathetic smile. Katara returned it.

Back in the bedroom down the hall Teldryn was sitting propped up against a wooden chair, a fire blazing in a stone pit that was dug into the side of the wall. Katara walked in with a bucket of water. She hung the bucket over a hook that swung by the fire. The water began to heat up and bubble lightly. She dipped a rag into the hot water and handed it to Teldryn so that he might dab his face and neck to clear up the light frostbite.

"I'm finishing the climb to the top to speak with Parthurnaax.", she declared to him. He looked up at her and scrunched his brow. "You stay here and rest. I'll be back by dusk."

"I'll make sure he rests.", Fayleen's voice beamed from the open doorway. Katara turned to smile at her.

Teldryn rolled his eyes a bit but didn't protest. He was bruised and worn. "Fine, but don't leave me alone with the old Beards and the thief here for too long.", he raspily said with a small smile towards Fayleen. Katara walked towards the door and fastened her gauntlets on her wrists and forearms. She gave a small nod and walked out of the room.

Katara walked the half mile further to the top of High Hrothgar. The wind whipped and snow flurries rained heavily but it's own way it was serene and peaceful - truly the Throat of the World. She was tired from rising early this morning, and already the sun was beginning it's slow crawl down the peaks of the mountains that dotted Skyrim's horizon before her. The climb up here didn't help any, and she was still reeling in the emotion of almost losing Teldryn, her best friend and loyal blade, earlier. She only hoped Parthurnaax could comfort her with the wisdom and guidance she needed right now.

Katara looked around at the flat clearing of snow around her that formed the peak of High Hrothgar. Her eyes landed on the inactive Word Wall, Parthurnaax sat perched on its stone edge with his greenish yellow wings folded at his side. She took a deep breath and approached him.

"Dovahkiin, your heart is heavy and your spirit grows weary.", he lowly bellowed to her without even turning his head to look at her. Katara was a little taken back by his ability to sense the Dov soul within her but at this point she knew she had to stop being surprised by it.

"I don't know what to do, Parthurnaax.", she started. "I did what I needed to do and swayed Odahviing to my aid, at least I thought." She hung her head for a moment. "But I haven't seen him, and when I call, he doesn't come."

"I know you seek answers from me, Dovahkiin. But in regards to Odahviing's whereabouts, I know just as much as you do.", Parthurnaax replied almost wearily.

Katara gave a small defeated sigh. "Alduin has been toying with me."

Parthurnaax slowly moved his large head away from looking over his mountain top and faced Katara. "Geh, he's been playing with my mind as well."

Katara cocked her head for a moment, his words came as a slight surprise to her. Parthurnaax noticed and continued.

"The World Eater knows I've been helping you, Dovahkiin. He shows me images of when I was his right hand, when Dov reigned and we ruled all of Skyrim..." he finished, his voice almost one of longing.

Katara had a slight twinge of uncertainty in the pit of her stomach. "Why would he show you that?", she asked. He only looked at her with his bulging yellow eyes.

"Because he knows how much I liked it.", he replied plainly. Katara's eyes widened at his words. She gulped quietly. For a moment she second guessed his loyalty to her and her cause. Though he was old in age, Parthurnaax was fully capable of joining Alduin's side once more to rise up and enslave humans again. The thought was daunting to Katara, she decided to level with him. She placed her hands behind her back and stepped closer to Parthurnaax and stood beside of him. She overlooked out at the world before her - snowy Skyrim.

"Alduin, the prophecy, the Way of the Voice - I have so much on my shoulders, Parthurnaax. Is trust going to be one more thing to worry about?", Katara asked gently but firmly.

The old dragon looked at her with sincere eyes. "No, Dovahkiin. Those days haunt me, they no longer bring me joy.", he replied back just as gently. The two of them overlooked the horizon at the sun setting below the snowy peaks of jagged mountains. "What visions are you having?", he added.

Her face still turned towards the setting sun but her expression distant for a moment. "My village on fire. Odahviing...dying in front of me engulfed in flames.", Katara answered weakly. Parthurnaax looked over at her.

"It's not real. The World Eater's illusions are ju - "

"I could smell Odahviing's scales charring in the blaze. His shrieks and cries were almost as loud as the crackling inferno itself. It was real enough for me, Parthurnaax.", Katara cut him off with subtle tears welling up in her eyes but never falling. He turned his massive head away and they stood looking over Skyrim for a quiet, peaceful moment.

"The Shout - it's time that you learn it's power.", Parthurnaax said after a short moment. Katara looked over at him and made a funny face.

"Dragonrend?", she asked.

"Geh, or as us Dov call it - Joor Zah Frul.", he answered. Katara's eyes widened and she could feel her adrenaline beginning to rush at the thought of learning the ancient knowledge of another Shout.

"When can I learn it? Do you want me to stand over there?", she asked almost giddy-like as she turned and glanced towards an open space behind them. Parthurnaax almost lowly laughed.

"I cannot teach it to you, for I do not know it.", he replied. She paused in her tracks and spun around to face him, her mouth hung open slightly and brow furrowed in confusion.

"B - but you said - ", she started.

"No Dov knows Dragonrend. It is much too powerful for us to wield. Joor - humans - hold this particular Word of Power. But I know where you can find it."

Katara sighed for a moment, both out of frustration and weariness from the day. "Where exactly do I need to 'find it' at?", she asked him in annoyance. Parthurnaax loomed his massive head back over to the horizon.

"A place that holds all the ancient knowledge Skyrim has to offer. There you'll find a scroll - an Elder Scroll. Dragonrend can be found within the scroll."

"The College of Winterhold.", she replied back once his words sunk into her tired mind and clicked with her. The College was the only place sacred enough to harbor the ancient tomes and knowledge that Skyrim has to offer. Parthurnaax lightly nodded and slowly blinked his eyes in agreement.

"My aid, Teldryn, he's badly wounded from an accident making the ascend today. Could you please fly us at least to the base of High Hrothgar in the morning?", she asked him sincerely. Parthurnaax puckered up his massive cowl and thought for a moment. He nodded in agreement.

"I know that this is taxing on a human, Dovahkiin, but understand that your journey, this prophecy, is far from over. There is much to be taught, much to learn, and much to do.", he said. The both of them looking over the edge as the last bit of sun dipped below the mountain tops. Katara knew he was right, she only wished he wasn't.

She began to walk away and head back to the temple before she turned back to him briefly. "Why does Alduin show me my village on fire and you as his tyrannical right hand? Why those images?"

Parthurnaax turned is long neck to look at her, his big yellow eyes almost droopy and wrinkled from weariness.

"Because he knows it's what terrifies us the most."

Fayleen wrung out a thin cloth in the bucket of water that Katara had hung over the fire to boil. The water was hot and was more soothing than the blistering cold that whipped outside. She walked over to Teldryn, who sat sitting up in a stone chair with his chest armor and boots off and thrown haphazardly to the side.

"Fay, really I'm fine.", he gently but weakly said as Fayleen knelt down to his bare feet. She gingerly raised his foot and turned it to the light, revealing a nasty cut and burn from where the rope had gotten caught around his ankle.

"It doesn't look fine, and it'll get infected unless it's cleaned.", she replied as she examined it then gently pressed the wet cloth to it. Teldryn winced at the warm fabric meeting his open wound, but he knew she was right. It was pulsing a thin layer of blood and puss as it was already. The last thing Teldryn wanted was to have to saw off his own ankle on this godforsaken mountain because of an infection that wasn't tended to.

The crackling of a small stone firepit hummed in their small room. The Greybeards would allow them a night's stay in High Hrothgar but that was to the extent of what they could offer. Their set up wasn't much - a couple stone beds that were nothing more than slabs of rock. No sheets or bedrolls, all of that went plummeting down the side of the mountain along with the horse. But they had a fire keeping them warm and the Greybeards even gave them some bread and leeks. Nothing of substance but enough to tide them over for the night.

"How much of the coin did we lose with the horse?", Teldryn asked worriedly when having a moment to recount the events of what happened in his mind. Fayleen looked up at him and patted the inside pockets of her leather hunter's vest. A light jingling emitted and she smiled.

"Always keep a cut to yourself.", she stated with a smile. Teldryn wearily nodded back at her. The both fell silent for a moment as Fayleen gently dabbed the damp cloth onto his wounds, easing the swelling and redness around it. In her hands she conjured a very light healing ward as its yellowish aurora enveloped his ankle. One had to be careful casting a healing ward, as regeneration and healing could be painful for a moment. Fayleen didn't want to overpower the wound. She wrapped the cloth around his rope burn scar and bound it gently in a bandage like fashion. Teldryn twisted his ankle around in a circular motion and nodded.

"You never told me where you learned healing.", Teldryn said as he intently watched her process.

"My father attended the College of Winterhold for most of his boyhood and into his teen years. I learned a lot from him - on top of being the daughter of a Thalmer, of course.", she finished as she raised up from her knees to sit in the stone chair opposite of Teldryn.

"A lucky Breton indeed.", Teldryn drawled. "The College - have you ever been?"

Fayleen shook her head with equal disappointment. "No, but I'd love to someday. Maybe learn a little something myself. I'm not the book reading type, you know. But apprenticing for some of Tamriel's most skilled mages would be life changing.", she finished with a slight longing in her voice.

Teldryn nodded in agreement then the two fell silent for a moment. The fire echoed on the tiny stone walls around them.

"You know that I...feel something for you too, right?", Fayleen finally spoke up from her seat. Her eyes met his sincerely. She didn't try to shy away. Teldryn looked up at her almost expressionless. "Before we arrived in Ivarstead, what you said back on the road. I feel it, too. But it's - "

"Scary?", he quickly finished.

She only nodded and continued to look at him.

"I've never been...emotionally invested with someone before.", she admitted. "But almost losing you today before my very eyes was the most terrified I've ever been." Tears almost welled around her emerald green irises when the horrific images of Teldryn hanging from his imminent death off the snowy ledge flooded her mind again.

"Seeing your face in that moment gave me...peace, in a way that I'm unfamiliar with.", he admitted. The two of them looked at each other another short quiet moment, both with sincerity and uncertainty.

Fayleen sat up in her chair and Teldryn did the same, they met in the space between them and he placed his hand on her cheek palm side up. Teldryn gingerly rubbed her cheek with the flat of his thumb, wiping away a stray tear that had managed to fall. The two of them drew closer and examined the other's face, memorizing features that they had been admiring for the past few weeks. Soaking in every detail of a moment both of them have thought about once...or twice.

Breathlessly Fayleen lunged forward and wrapped her arms around Teldryn's neck, planting a passionate kiss on his blueish green lips. Without hesitation he wrapped his arms around her in return and pulled her tighter to part her lips with his. They're lips explored the mouths of one another, tongues gently prodding around and tasting the natural sweetness of each other. It felt terrifying and blissful at the same time. For a moment they stayed locked in their longing embrace, kissing each other like none other. Breathless they tore apart from each other and just looked into each other's eyes. A faint metal clanking grew louder from the hallway outside the room and they realized it was footsteps.

Katara entered the room and eyeballed Teldryn and Fayleen, who were both sitting unnaturally in their chairs, their cheeks flushed different shades of pink. She knew something was up, but now was not the time to pick on them like she had done before on the road. Instead she thought back to the way Teldryn had looked at Fayleen that night at the Bee Barb in her green dress. Fayleen was a good woman for him, one that would make him happy. She wanted nothing more than her best friend to find genuine happiness - it also gave her more wiggle room to tease them on it at a later time.

"How are you feeling?", Katara asked him as she nodded towards his bandaged ankle. Teldryn looked down at it and wiggled it for her to see.

"I can walk fine, but the tenderness against my armor will make it difficult to trek down the mountain in the morning.", he admitted with worry in his voice.

"I convinced Parthurnaax to fly us to the base tomorrow morning, should make it much easier.", Katara replied as she plopped down on one of the stone slabs that served as a bed.

"Oh good, so we'll just...*gulp*...fly.", Teldryn said as Katara's words sunk in mid sentence. He didn't enjoy it the first time so he was sure a second time wouldn't be the charm. Fayleen scrunched her face and stared at Katara.

"Fly on a dragon?", she asked her with wide eyes. Katara turned and lay flat on her back, reaching up to take off her armored shoes.

"You're going to have to get used to dragons when around me, I'm afraid.", Katara said to Fayleen. She shrugged and knelt back down to ball up some extra rags that were lying by the fire. She made a make shift pillow out of the bundle and sat crisscross on the floor in front of the fire.

"We have a long journey tomorrow, we're heading to the College.", Katara told the two of them, propping herself up on one arm. "I've got it all mapped out - we need to gather food and supplies in Ivarstead, seems most of it went over the side of the mountain today, along with the horse - which we also need to get.", she finished monotonous. Fayleen sat up quickly and looked at her.

"No more horses! The damn things always die.", she exclaimed. Katara and Teldryn tried to stifle laughs but they knew she was right. They were going to travel light and a horse could sometimes be more hurtful than helpful when it came to how swiftly one needed to travel. It was best journeyed on foot.

"Fine, no horse. But we're stopping off Windhelm for a night or as needed.", Katara said as a smile before she quickly reached into her breast plate and plucked out the dingy map she still had from Gerdur early in her travels. She thumbed to an area on the roll of paper. "It's just south of the College, no more than a days walk from it."

Teldryn raised his brow in impressment. "You trying to do my job now?", he teased. "I'll send a raven to Ulfric from Ivarstead as soon we...land.", he finished with a slight sick expression on his face.

"Wow, the College. I hope they'll let us in.", Fayleen admired from her pillow made of rags by the fire. Katara scrunched her face.

"What do you mean?", she asked genuinely. Fayleen sat up again.

"The admittance test, they usually make you perform a spell or something to get in. Don't you know how the College works?"

"You forget she grew up under a cold rock.", Teldryn said in reference to her being from the Skaal. Katara rolled her eyes at him then focused back to Fayleen.

"I wouldn't worry too much, between the three of us we're sure to pass any test they can throw at us.", Fayleen said as she rolled over. Teldryn nodded in agreement and got up from his chair with a groan. He carefully sat down on the stone bed and swung his legs over to lay flat on his back. Katara watched him make himself comfy before she too rested on her back and stared up at the ceiling. As was the same every night, thoughts swirled and marinated in her mind, carrying her off to sleep for a few hours.


	18. Eighteen: The Blue Palace

Chapter Eighteen: The Blue Palace

"I can't tell if this is better or worse than trudging down the mountain.", Teldryn bitterly said with his shoulders haunched, bear pelt tightened, and eyes squinted from the whipping snow winds. The three of them stood atop the Throat of the World as the sun just came up waiting for Parthurnaax to show himself.

"Better. That ankle of yours wouldn't fair well making the descent.", Katara replied back as she scanned the flat top of High Hrothgar. Fayleen clutched at her pelt as the wind bit.

Finally the familiar flapping echoed and Parthurnaax gently landed in front of them with a few graceful flaps of his wings. Katara walked over to him and was level with his lowered snout. She gave him a smile and climbed above his neck, mounting herself. She extended a hand to Teldryn, who sighed heavily and groaned, but obliged and hoisted himself and his bad ankle behind Katara.

Finally there was Fayleen, who stood staring at Parthurnaax with her mouth so agape that her tongue began to dry from the cold winds. He was the first dragon she'd ever seen, it was a sight that she couldn't process and absorb enough of. Katara held out her hand to her and lightly giggled to get her realistic attention again. Fayleen snapped out of it and climbed aboard the old dragon, feeling his rough scales and deep breathing under her hands. She settled herself behind Teldryn.

Parthurnaax reared his massive head back to get a quick look at the three of them before gracefully flapping his wings and lifting off the ground, kicking up snow in the process. He flew them off the edge of the mountain, hovering over a grey abyss below and an orange sun rising ahead. He took it all in and so did Katara, pride and humility welling up in her gut. Parthurnaax ducked his large head and neck and began to fly down the side of High Hrothgar. Katara felt Teldryn squeeze her in fear, just as he did the first time they rode a dragon. Fayleen, on the other hand, was holding onto Teldryn tightly with one hand and gripping her hood in the other - a smile from ear to ear on her face and carrying on like a child on a thrill ride.

Parthurnaax dipped and wove into the low flying clouds around the edges of the mountain, finally landing on a rocky portion of the lowest tier on High Hrothgar.

"I cannot go any further below, Dovahkiin. My place is at the Throat of the World.", he bellowed as he softly landed. The three of them dismounted him.

"By the Nine, that was amazing - ", Fayleen said in awe as she fixed her windblown black curls with her nimble fingers.

"Amazingly nauseating.", Teldryn weakly replied with a pale greenish blue face and a sickly sound coming from his stomach. He turned away and knelt, clutching his stomach he vomited. Fayleen winced and grimaced in disgust.

"Be wary in your travels, Dovahkiin. And always follow the Way of the Voice.", Parthurnaax bellowed to Katara. She looked up at him.

"I will return.", she replied to him with a stern face, she meant it. He bowed and flapped his massive wings once or twice before taking flight and shooting back up to side of High Hrothgar. Katara watched him disappear into the clouds. She turned back and saw Teldryn doubled over a rock wiping vomit from his chin and Fayleen giggling at him, her bear pelt out of place from the descend down.

"Alright, it's just a short walk down to Ivarstead. Are you two ready? Long journey ahead of us the rest of the day.", Katara spoke to both of them as she made sure her greatsword was fastened to her back. Teldryn took a couple deep breaths and composed himself, Fayleen coughing as her snickering at him came to a cease. They followed her down the side of High Hrothgar, just about half a mile walk from Ivarstead.

*Later that same day, Windhelm*

A handmaiden fluffed up pillows made of duck feathers, not very comfy but served its purpose and were wrapped in the finest fabric in the city. She tidied the fine linen beds and sheets out of blue fabrics and bear pelts. Three rooms for three guests were prepared - as per the demand of head servant of the Blue Palace. Ulfric Stormcloak had disclosed to the Palace servants that the Dragonborn and her travelers were to be guests in the city tomorrow and he wanted to offer them beds in his Palace. Jorlief was instructed by Ulfric to prepare a fine dinner for hosting the Dragonborn tomorrow evening. He sprung into action the minute he received a raven from Ivarstead.

"I'll need two fine horses readied, I wish to take Katara to the ice fields on her pass through.", Ulfric spoke to Jorlief as he stood up from his throne and began walking down the length of the throne room to the door.

"The ice fields, My Lord? Why there?", Jorlief asked as he fluttered close to Ulfric's side with dubious curiosity.

"I have something to show her."

"As you wish, I'll ready the horses at once."

"No need.", Ulfric declared as he pushed open the large Palace doors. "I'm heading down there myself, could use a breather from this stuffy stone anyway."

Windhelm wasn't all bad, in fact most of it was pleasant - if you chose the right side. Most of the residents within the city were Nords, true Nords. They held tradition, faith, and honor close to their chests. Many of the men and even some able bodied single women have served and are currently serving in the war, their loyalty to their people and their hold is unmatched - and that all comes from the right leadership of a Jarl.

Ulfric Stormcloak knew he had made his mistakes as Jarl, but he never regretted them. Even Shouting down High King Torygg to his death was not a regret Ulfric had - nor did he see it as a mistake. He looked around at the hustle and bustle of Windhelm, the citizens carrying on with their duties in the marketplace or in the side shops. Most people that he passed offered him a genuine smile and lightly bowed, to which he smiled and nodded back at them. Massive stone walls surround his vision with a guard at every watchtower, their eyes scanning the snowy mountains and landscape around the city. The Great Bear, Ulfric's father, sat on the throne of Windhelm before him. Then his father's father before him. Each Stormcloak held the title of Jarl with power and were feared and loved. But none of the other Stormcloaks were responsible for starting a war on Skyrim soil. The thought didn't daunt Ulfric too much however. Skyrim belonged to the Nords, to the very citizens of his hold, to those who valued their faith in whatever gods they wish to worship. Starting the war was not a regret, not if it was done with the best intentions for Skyrim's sons and daughters.

A scrawny Wood Elf wearing light brown and yellow clothing was scooping horse manure next to the stables when Ulfric approached him. His greenish yellow eyes widened when he saw Ulfric, and hastily he threw his shovel to the side and lightly bowed.

"My Jarl, forgive me I - ", he stammered as he looked around at the manure that clung to the snowy hay around the stables. Ulfric gave him a smile and waved away his apologies.

"You look like you could use some help, lad.", Ulfric said as he grabbed a second shovel that was hanging from a hook inside one of the stalls. The Bosmer looked at him with a very puzzled look.

"My Lord, there's no need for you to dirty yourself with stable duties.", he replied almost apologetically.

"Nonsense. These are the steeds that carry my soldiers into battle, that serve as viable transportation for food and supplies within my hold, and these will be the strong stallions that my men and I will need when we reclaim Skyrim from the Empire. They're well taken care of sturdy creatures, you do a fine job and deserve a helping hand. No Jarl is above getting their hands dirty.", Ulfric said as he began shoveling steaming piles of dung. "What's your name, Bosmer?", he asked.

The Wood Elf grinned from ear to ear at Ulfric's praises. It took him a moment for his words to sink in and register that a Nord, a Jarl at that, was complimenting and helping a common elf. It warmed his soul.

"Arindil, my Lord.", he replied back as he joined Ulfric in the shoveling and cleaning again.

"Arindil, what do you think of the Dragonborn?", Ulfric asked. Arindil looked up and him and almost shrugged his shoulders.

"As a Mer I don't know much about Norse legends I'm afraid, My Jarl. But I've seen her pass through here a couple times on her journeys.", Arindil leaned in. "I've heard chatter though. Oh yes, travelers have said they saw her ride through the clouds on the back of a dragon. Could you imagine such a thing, right here above our heads. Ah - forgive me, Jarl Ulfric. I'm rambling."

Ulfric rooted his shovel at his heel for a moment and remembered the sight of seeing Katara last - she was climbing aboard the back of Odahviing. It was a sight he'd never forget until his last breath, a dragon bowing to a mortal. He recalled the look she and him exchanged before she took off into the blizzard. It was one of understanding and oneness, they knew they'd both be alright if they went separate paths. As far as most citizens and ranking was concerned, he and Katara were some of the most powerful people in Skyrim. They had duties to carry out and honor to uphold, but how he longed to see her again and hear of her battle stories and travels.

"She's got a kind heart, too.", Ulfric spoke up. "She's coming here by nightfall tomorrow."

Arindil raised his brow and smiled genuinely. Then he looked around the ground that was now clear of manure. "Now she'll have a clean stable to keep her steed."

Ulfric smiled back and placed his hand on Arindil's shoulder in comradery. "Would you be so kind as to ready me two of your finest stallions for the Dragonborn and myself tomorrow? I'm also going to hire you a stable boy to help you out around here. You labor hard, and it's greatly appreciated, Arindil.", he finished. Arindil lit up again and looked immensely grateful but humble. He lightly bowed to Ulfric.

"It would be my honor, My Jarl.", he replied sincerely. Ulfric patted him on the shoulder and turned to walk back into the city, his cheeks red and chapped from the cold wind.

The sun had just set and the night sky was rapidly ushering in, cooling off the ground around them but only slightly. Katara, Teldryn, and Fayleen had reached Bonestrewn Geyser by this point - the peculiarly dry valley that was littered with hot steaming geysers. It wasn't quite a desert, but there were scarce vegetation and shelter from the sun that beat down on the dusty grounds during the daylight. Sabrecats roamed the valley, one of which was already killed earlier when trying to pounce on the three of them upon entering the Geyser fields. The lack of shelter combined with the wild wolves and sabrecats made it a dangerous place to be come nightfall. Luckily Teldryn had traveled through the valley before, he said they were almost out of the worst before they'd start the climb up the road and out of Bonestrewn Geyser.

"Have you ever passed through here before?", Teldryn asked Fayleen. Thankfully the journey hadn't been too hard on him and his ankle was wrapped and tender but not too much of a hinderence to travel. All three of them had yet to feel entirely fatigued, that was due in part by Parthurnaax flying them down High Hrothgar. The climb down would've been taxing enough that they wouldn't have made it this far in one day.

"Blazes no. I was always advised to avoid this place. Now I can see why.", she replied as she crunched a few dry twigs under her boots and carried her bow down by her side, ready to be used if needed. "I'm ready to see the College.", she added.

"Aye, me too. Windhelm tomorrow night though.", Katara said. Windhelm was their only option for housing between here and the College of Winterhold, it was necessary to stop for a night. However Katara couldn't help but feel giddy at the thought. She sent a raven to Windhelm early this morning, no doubt Ulfric received it by now and should be expecting them within a day. She had so much she wanted to tell him, her new Shout, riding Odahviing across the skies, everything.

The road began winding uphill again, lifting them out of the dusty and barren valley. There were some wooded areas that sat back from the road that they would make camp for the night. They were able to buy more supplies in Ivarstead considering they lost almost everything previously owned in the horrific events on the side of High Hrothgar. Each of them had a brown leather bag they carried and inside each was a bedroll, a torch, and some common clothes. Fayleen stole some potions from the alchemist in Ivarstead while Teldryn distracted him, for those two it was almost too easy. Each of them also had some apples and leeks in their bags, and Fayleen had a juicy rabbit hung over her back that she killed earlier in the day with her bow. They traveled lightly but with the necessities.

Their fire was small but it was enough to roast the fat hare over, charring the white meat perfectly. The three of them sat around and munched on their food as the fire cracked. The air wasn't too hot or too cold, sleeping should be easy tonight.

"Do you think the Arch Mage will let me duel him at the College of Winterhold?", Fayleen asked almost jokingly as she nibbled some remaining meat off the rabbits legs clutched in her fingertips.

"That's one duel I'm afraid you won't win, my dear.", Teldryn replied with a scoff sitting against a pine tree as he cleaned and polished his jagged dagger. "I wouldn't even win against the Arch Mage."

Fayleen made a thinking face for a moment, trying to recall something. "Who is Arch Mage now? I haven't kept up with Skyrim's politics in quite some time."

"Ancano Telmithevary, a few years now I'd say.", Teldryn replied back factually. Fayleen nodded lightly then looked over to Katara, who was sitting cross legged on her bedroll and fiddling with the horns of the iron helm that sat in her lap.

"Do you know what an Arch Mage is, recluse?", Fayleen teased her.

"I know of the College just from reading books about it. But I'm still learning about titles and such, seeing as we didn't have any of that back in the village.", Katara replied.

Fayleen threw the remaining rabbit bones off to the side and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. "An Arch Mage is the highest title a mage can have at the College of Winterhold. It means you've been appointed by the Council of Mages to lead and oversee the College and all its apprentices - and you get to live in fancy quarters in the tallest tower, overlooking the Ghost Sea. It's a great and noble position, one that's usually been held by Thalmer or Dunmer, or any Mer really.", she finished with a smile on her face.

Teldryn looked genuinely impressed. "You know a lot about the College for someone who's a traveling thief."

"I told you, my father was an apprentice at the College growing up. He cherished those days, and he cherished what he learned. Savos Aren was the Arch Mage when he attended, he admired him greatly. My father didn't grow up with a father, so Savos Aren was his role model. I'll never forget when Aren visited us for a night in Markarth - "

"Savos Aren actually came to your home?", Teldryn asked with a slight giddiness. Fayleen smiled at him as if recalling fond memories.

"He stayed for only a night, and it was the only time I met him. I was a young girl no more than 10 or 11. After dinner my mother went to bed and father let me sit on his lap while he and Aren exchanged stories in the den. He showed me magicka in the palm of his hand, beautiful frost - I'll never forget. He knew every school of magicka there was, every spell and potion."

"He was a good man. I heard nothing but good stories of Aren, even on Morrowind.", Teldryn said. The three of them sat in a silent moment before Katara spoke up.

"What happened to him?", she asked curiously.

Both Teldryn and Fayleen looked over at her. "Nobody knows what happened to Savos Aren.", Teldryn replied softly.

"No doubt he'd still be Arch Mage to this day, but his aid went to wake him one morning and Aren had slipped away in the night.", Fayleen looked down for a moment with sadness. "He had no prior illnesses, he wasn't of old age yet. He just went to sleep and...never woke back up."

Katara looked at her with sad eyes. "Did you go to his funeral?"

Fayleen lightly shook her head. "I had already ran away from home by then." Her eyes almost welled up with tears. "I can't imagine my father's devastation when he heard of Savos Aren's death."

"You knew all that but didn't know who the current Arch Mage was?", Teldryn lightly said. She shot him a look, one of sadness.

"I stopped caring after that."

Just then a blood curdling shriek erupted from Bonestrewn Geyers, it echoed from the dark and dusty valley below them. The three of them stood up in a snap and turned to where the noise came from. Katara and Teldryn knew that shriek all too well, and Fayleen didn't need much imagination to know what it was.

In the valley flying low and slow was a greenish black dragon, or so it looked in the night sky. The moonlight would catch its scales with every other flap, illuminating it across the skies. It's massive head hung low and scanned the geyser fields. Teldryn quickly began kicking dirt over their small fire, Fayleen and Katara joined when they realized what he was doing. They were trying put out the fire from being seen. The three of them crouched.

"Can't you just go down there and ride it or something?", Fayleen asked in a whisper to Katara.

"That one is not an ally meant to be tamed, I'm afraid.", she replied as she kept her eyes on the dragon swooping through the night air.

"Do you think it was hunting us?", Fayleen asked with a shiver.

"Perhaps. But now it's hunting something else, and that's all that matters.", Teldryn replied as the three of them watched its every move with their mouths agape.

The dragon spotted a sabrecat and dove to the ground. In one swoop it picked the wild animal up off the dusty ground and lifted itself into the air again. The sabrecat was growling and roaring in defiance and anger, furiously gnawing at the dragon's feet and talons that carried it through the air. The dragon cried out and flailed slightly midair, then it bent its massive neck under itself and bit down hard on the sabrecat's head, tearing it off like picking an apple from a tree - the sabrecat's squeals ending. The dragon kept flapping in the air as it reared back up and slid the head of the wild beast down its gullet, crunching on it with its large teeth. It flew off into the night sky with the body of the sabrecat clutched in its talons, blood pouring from its decapitated neck until the dragon was no longer in sight.

"I hope you two are warm enough for now, because I'm not lighting that fire again.", Katara solemnly said to Teldryn and Fayleen as she turned, exhaled, and lay down on her bedroll.

"Well, here we are. Back up North.", Teldryn said almost bitterly as the three of them approached the city gates of Windhelm, crossing the icy bridge from the road over the port of the Ghost Sea.

Fayleen tightened the pelt over her head and shoulders. The three of them walked through the city, allowed by the guards, and made their way down the streets. City folk were carrying on with their business, and pillars burned along the walls for warmth. It was chilly but that was to be expected in the northeastern extreme of Skyrim.

"Oh, just as a reminder, let's not mention anything to Jarl Ulfric about me being the thief from a month or so back.", Fayleen whispered as they walked through the streets and towards the Blue Palace. Teldryn scoffed.

"As if we'd do something so stupid, but you should still play your cards right.", he teased. She rolled her eyes back at him. Katara lightly smiled and finally spoke up.

"Are you two going to be sharing bed chambers tonight?", she jested with the both of them. To her complete surprise, neither of them gaffed at the thought yet they did give her a glare. They knew Katara cared for both of them like a brother and sister she never had, and they knew she wanted them to be together. They didn't have to pretend that they didn't share feelings for each other around Katara, she was their best friend and they were hers.

"Well, what of you and the Jarl?", Teldryn quickly teased back. Fayleen's brow raised.

"You and Ulfric? How have I not heard of this before?", she said in shock. Katara's cheeks flushed.

"Nothing has ever happened between Ulfric and I. We're good friends who share similar walks of life. ", Katara answered. Both elves tried not to giggle.

The city guards pushed open the large doors to the Blue Palace, and Fayleen's eyes widened when they stepped inside.

"I've never been inside a Jarl's Keep before.", she whispered as she looked all around her and took in the sights of the blue banners that hung on the stone walls, the bear pelts that were fitted rugs on the floor, and the large banquet table that could seat nearly 20 guests.

Jorlief was penning something on a scroll by the throne when he looked up and saw the three of them. "Ah, Katara Snow-Child. We've been expecting you.", he greeted them with a smile and slight curtsy. Katara nodded back to him, yet she did not see Ulfric anywhere in the room.

"Come, come. The three of you must want to rest your tired feet. I'll show you to your chambers.", Jorlief said as he began to lead them out of a room and down a hallway.

"Chambers? No, really we're fine. We're fit to stay at Candlehearth Hall for the night.", Katara replied back with a puzzled face. Teldryn shot her a glare, he always liked the more elegant things in life.

"Ulfric insists on it, he has plenty of room. It's really no trouble at all, My Lady.", Jorlief answered as he came to the first bedroom. "This is yours."

He opened the wooden door and they all peeked into the room. It was spacious and had shiney stone walls with blue trims and curtains on the window. The bed was the biggest she's ever seen, even though to most people this was normal - they didn't have these fancies back home in the village. Candles were lit on fine wooden tables and dressers, the room smelling pleasant.

"I'll show you to your rooms now.", Jorlief motioned to Teldryn and Fayleen as he led them down the hall. Katara slipped her brown leather bag off her back and onto a table off to the side. She admired the room and smiled from ear to ear. Katara walked over to one of the windows and peered out over the port of Windhelm and the mouth of the Ghost Sea. She looked out over the waves, recalling how choppy the waters were when she was taken by the Empire and shipped off to Skyrim. She remembered her people and knew Solstheim was on the other side of the snowy sea. Katara missed them everyday, and she wondered how they were.

"I hope this room is accommodating enough for you.", a male voiced boomed from behind her in the doorway. She turned quickly and a slow smile spread across her face.

"I think it'll suffice.", Katara said as she lightly bowed with a smile. "Thank you, Jarl Ulfric."

"How are you, Dragonborn?", Ulfric smiled.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Grateful more than anything nowadays. I believe I escape death almost every day.", she honestly said. He moved in closer into the room and looked around.

"I want to hear your stories.", Ulfric said.

"I have quite a few to tell.", she replied, recalling in her mind flying on the back of Odahviing, Maven Black-Briar dying in front of her, learning to breathe fire, Teldryn almost losing his life.

He nodded. "Then tonight at dinner I'd love to hear them. If you'll join me."

"Of course."

"Where's that elf of yours, Teldryn?", Ulfric asked as he peeked down the hallway.

"Your steward showed him a room. We have Fayleen now as well. Just a common Breton, but she's a damn good warrior and mage. Tel has eyes for her.", Katara replied. He laughed.

"Any companion of yours is welcome under the Blue Palace roof. I'll see you tonight, Katara.", he answered as he lightly bowed and left the room with a warm smile.

Katara returned to the window and looked out over the Ghost Sea for another moment or two, then she searched the nightstand at her bed side for a roll of paper and a quill. She found them and sat down at the table her brown bag was resting on. After a brief moment choosing her words, she began to pen the letter.

"Dear Freya,

I'm writing to you from the Blue Palace of Windhelm. So much has happened since we last saw each other, old friend. So much I want and need to tell you. The prophecy, the return of Alduin you've surely heard, what Storn said to me that night by the fire about being the Dragonborn - it's all true. I've been here in Skyrim, inching closer each day to defeating Alduin once and for all and returning home to the village, to the Skaal.

If you receive this, send a raven back here to Windhelm. I shall return here in a few days in hopes that I've heard back from you. I do miss you all terribly, and I worry for you every night that I lay my head to rest. Have strength and faith, Freya.

-Katara"


	19. Nineteen: Keep Your Enemies Closer

Chapter Nineteen: Keep Your Enemies Closer

Ulfric Stormcloak walked back into the war room, Galmar Stone-Fist was waiting for him, his brown knuckles propping himself up on the strategy table.

"Is she here?", he asked Ulfric.

"Yes. Do you plan on joining us for dinner tonight?"

Galmar let out a low groan. "I don't want to eat a fancy meal, I want to win the damn war."

Ulfric took a deep breath. Him and Galmar have had this same conversation several times since entering into the truce with the Empire to put the war on hold. Ulfric wanted to honor the truce until the dragon threat was quelled, Galmar was hesitant to pull the troops back, he didn't believe in negotiating with the Imperials - he felt Katara tugged on Ulfric's decision making.

"Must we quarrel today?", Ulfric responded almost wearily.

"Oh, are war matters too much for you to handle when your doe-eyed beauty is visiting?"

"Katara has done nothing to you, yet you have so much vitriol towards her." Ulfric's voice more angry now, luckily the door was shut and the walls were stone. "How am I supposed to win a war when I'm fighting the commander of my army?"

"How are we supposed to win the war if the damn thing is on hold for her!", Galmar yelled back. Both of them fell silent for a moment. Ulfric stepped closer to Galmar and looked him in his eyes.

"How long have we known each other, old friend? Since we were boys?", he asked softly.

"Too long.", Galmar replied back.

"It's indeed been a long time. And anywhere in these twenty or more years have I ever given you reason not to trust me?"

Galmar looked away for a moment and sighed. He knew Ulfric was right, he's never led him astray before. He only shook his head.

"Then why now, Galmar? Why do you take issue with the Dragonborn?"

Galmar was quiet. He knew Ulfric would find a woman someday and she'd have an influence on him, he'd no longer heed just the advice of his second in command but the advice of his woman as well. Galmar just always figured that woman would be a Lady of some other house stronghold, betrothed to Ulfric for the merger of Houses and Skyrim politics. She would remain subservient to him and give him little Lords and Ladies that would one day sit upon the throne of Windhelm, hopefully the throne of Skyrim after Ulfric seizes it. He never anticipated the woman that would catch his best friend's eye would be the Dragonborn - a woman so fiercely independent and influencial. But he knew Ulfric, he knew he was attracted to power because he himself was powerful. It made sense, Galmar just couldn't make heads or tails of it all yet.

"Ride with us to the ice fields overlook tomorrow. Get to know her more. She isn't our enemy, she isn't your enemy. If you think for one second that I'm giving up on the chase for High King of Skyrim then you're not the best friend I know.", Ulfric spoke up when Galmar had nothing to say.

Galmar had to smile at that. He knew Ulfric wanted the crown and throne, and he knew he deserved it. He deserved it not because he wanted it, but because of what he knew Ulfric would do when leading over Skyrim and it's people - he would care for every citizen, every mother and father, every babe and child, and every soldier in the land. He'd put his people and Skyrim's best interest over the tyrannical reach of any Empire.

"And here I thought you just wanted fancy new robes.", Galmar finally answered. Both of them smiled at each other and Ulfric placed his hand on his friend's shoulder and leaned in.

"You are my brother, both by sword and honor. Never forget that, old friend.", he said genuinely to him. Galmar knew he meant it, and he knew soon enough the war would be back on its feet and they'd pillage Solitude and make the High Queen Elisif surrender the throne she didn't deserve.

Galmar placed his hand on Ulfric's shoulder as well. "Aye, the brother I never wanted.", he jested lightly with him.

Dinner was exquisite, just as anticipated. The cook prepared a venison stew with carrots, onions, potatoes, and parsley. It was served with a piece of oven baked buttered bread, and a slice of snowberry pie - a common delicacy in the North - with a glass of milk to wash it down for dessert. Not to mention a few good bottles of wine were passed around and emptied between the six of them at the table.

Galmar and Jorlief joined Ulfric while Katara, Teldryn, and Fayleen sat opposite them. They shared stories of being on the road and the adventures they've encountered along the way. Even Galmar was impressed, though he still tried to hide it. They laughed over jokes and broke bread with eachother.

"How long are you planning on passing through Windhelm? If it pleases you I'd open my doors to you three another night if you stay here tomorrow as well.", Ulfric suggested to the three of them, mainly Katara.

She looked over at Teldryn and Fayleen. Teldryn wiped the snowberry pie crumbs delicately from the corner of his lips. Fayleen was downing another cup of wine.

"Perhaps staying tomorrow night as well won't hurt. Is there a reason for it, Jarl?", Katara replied back.

"I'd like to take you to the ice fields overlook tomorrow. I have something to show you, I figure it's something that may be of interest to you.", he answered.

"And am I correct in assuming you won't tell me what it is I'll be interested in until tomorrow?", Katara joked with a smile. Ulfric lightly laughed.

"You'd be correct.", he said quickly with a smile. "Teldryn, Fayleen, the two of you should make your way down to the Gray Quarter tomorrow. I've made some renovations down there and could use some critique by an elf who would give it to me straight.", he added raising his mug of ale to Teldryn.

"I've got some friends down there I wouldn't mind seeing again.", Teldryn answered back. Fayleen nodded in agreement as a servant filled her cup again.

They finished dinner with their bellies full and satisfied. Teldryn and Fayleen had retired to their separate chambers for the night. Galmar to his, and Jorlief was relieved of duty by Ulfric. He invited Katara to join him for a walk in the Stone Room - the room where they kept statues of all the previous Jarl's of Windhelm, dating back to the birth of the city. She obliged gladly.

The Stone Room was cold and drafty, but dim low burning candles flickered in the little shelves built into the stone walls around the statues. The first figure they came to was Ysgramor, the founder of Windhelm. He was an ancient Nordic hero. Ysgramor was one of the first men to settle in Skyrim when he rode across the Ghost Sea with the Five Hundred Companions at his back and drove out the elves. Upon arriving here he built Windhelm, and it's from Ysgramor that every Nord descends from.

"My mother was a Nord. She grew up in Skyrim, I don't know the exact whereabouts sadly. She always revered this country. I guess she was what you'd call a 'true Nord'.", Katara's words lightly echoed even though she was speaking softly as they slowly walked past each of the stone figures lining the walls of the room.

"I don't recall my mother too much. She passed when I was younger, same as you.", Ulfric mentioned. "My father was always hard on me, as was needed from a father to his son.", he added as they came to his father's statue and paused to look at it. The stone man had a defined jaw and brow, much like Ulfric. His hair was longer than his however, it looked as though it hung flatly down to the middle of his back, his muscles protruding in his shoulders and chest and standing tall and honorable - as any Nord would want. The two of them looked at it for a moment in silence.

"May I ask...why have you never been wed before? As someone who was the heir to, now the Jarl of, Windhelm...shouldn't you have been betrothed to someone?", Katara finally broke the silence.

"I should have, like every other highborn. But my father didn't believe in it. He promised that I would never have to force love for political or House gain, that I could choose my own bride. As a young lad I remember hearing my father argue with other Jarls about it at the banquet table. They claimed that it was unfair not to wed me to one of their daughters for House alliances, especially given that I was his only child. Still, he stayed true to his words.", he finished as he recalled his father fondly and looked up at the shrine.

"The Skaal don't believe in that sort of thing either, but we usually just marry within inside the village. I'm learning something new about the outside world every day."

"Will you go back to Solstheim sometime?", he asked. She looked over at him with a sadness in her eyes.

"My duties are here in Skyrim. I sent a raven to my village earlier. I'm hoping I receive one back in a few days when I return from the College of Winterhold."

"Have you ever been that far North?", Ulfric asked her as they continued walking down the length of the room, two Stormcloak guards standing watch at the doors.

"Actually no, I haven't.", Katara replied as if realizing it for the first time herself.

"There's a town just outside of the College, it's just called Winterhold. It was once a thriving city by the sea and the College was bustling with people. Then a hundred or so years ago a great storm moved in off the Ghost Sea. It's said that a wave, bigger than most cities today, rose up and swallowed Winterhold whole.", Ulfric told with passionate eyes. "It's said that the College was mysteriously unscathed by the storm and that's why the city doesn't wish to have anything to do with the school. It's like they're two towns living apart from each other."

Katara absorbed all this new information and her eyes widened. "I would've never guessed all that. Teldryn and Fayleen are both quite excited about seeing it however."

The guards opened the iron doors for them and let them out into the hallways. "They're good companions, you know.", Ulfric replied sincerely. "They suit you."

Katara couldn't help but nod her head in agreement. She smiled. "How have you faired since the war has been on hold?"

"Fine, actually. It's given me more time to work on my city, something that was long overdue. All my soldiers are pulled back into Eastmarch. I'm a man of my word, Dragonborn.", he said with a smile.

"I told you to call me Ka - "

"I know, but it is who you are. It's your call to honor. Wear it proudly. You're a true Nord, Katara.", he softly answered as they entered the Throne Room. She smiled and thought it over for a moment, knowing he was right.

"Rest tonight, we have an hour horse ride to the icefield overlook tomorrow morning. If there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask.", Ulfric added as he turned to face Katara. She lightly bowed to him.

"Good night, Jarl Ulfric.", she gracefully said in response to him calling her by her titles. He smiled and nodded back to her as he turned and walked to his chambers.

*Earlier that night, Empire Outpost Karthwasten, the Reach*

A younger scrawny Imperial solider sat against the quarry stone wall of the Empire Outpost. Around him a dozen other soldiers filled the room, some eating and drinking and others lying in small cots. In the middle of them burned a fire with a few cooking pots roasting over it. They all adorned their armor, they always had to wear it. They grew to loathe it.

"I'm sick of this, you know.", the soldier spoke up with his arms tightly crossed. A few of the other men looked up and gave him their weary attention. "Every day we run drills through the fields, and every night we squeeze into 'ere. Day in and day out, nothin' ever changin'. Well I've had enough of it.", he said with anger and bitterness in his voice. A couple of the men scoffed.

"Oi, and what are you going to do about it?", one soldier asked him sarcastically. "March right up to the ol' Queen herself and tell her to piss off?"

The young soldier pursed his lips and shook his head. "I want to see me family. I want to see me girl again."

"You don't have a girl.", the other solider replied. The other men erupted in laughter, the young Imperial just clenched his fists.

"Just you wait, next time I see the General I'll - "

"You'll what, boy?", General Tullius boomed from the doorway of his captain's quarters, staring at the young soldier. The room fell silent. "I'd choose those next words very carefully."

The scrawny Imperial tucked his shoulders in and his face turned red, he stammered and stuttered, some of the other men snickering at him but quickly hushing themselves when they saw the General was not amused. He stepped further into the room, in the middle of the men.

"Do you know why you can't go home, men? Why you can't lie with your whores and ? It's because we're at war. Something I'm sure many of you have no idea what that very word even means, let alone feels like." The room of younger soldiers shifted in their spots and gave General Tullius their full attention.

"But, sir. The truce - ", the scrawny lad spoke up again to his own stupidity. The General shot him a stare.

"Look around you, boys. Take a good look at your fellow soldier.", Tullius instructed his men. They glanced at one another. "Someone in here tonight will die before this war is over. Several of you." The room fell to a loud silence as General Tullius scanned their faces. "One day you'll look back and wish you appreciated nights like this when it was you or your fellow man's last night and you didn't even know it. That's what war is, men." He stepped closer to the scrawny soldier again, leaning in to him. "These men are your family for now."

The soldier looked down in cowardice, the General looked at his men and returned to his chambers, closing the door to a room of soldiers so quiet that a hay needle could be heard if dropped.

Tullius exhaled deeply and walked towards his strategy table, a detailed map of Skyrim lay in front of him with blue and red flags placed in their appropriate locations. He knew how his men felt, he knew they were weary pretending to fight a war that currently wasn't active. There were days where he himself felt that they were just spinning their wheels, never really going anywhere. Tullius couldn't dismiss his men back to their towns and homes, a good General would know never to let his defenses down. He didn't trust Ulfric Stormcloak, he couldn't wait around in vulnerability and expect his foes to uphold their part of the bargain. If Ulfric was going to strike, Tullius wanted to strike first. His men had to be ready at a moments notice, unfortunately not many moments required their attention nowadays. It had become dull, but that is when soldiers become complacent. General Tullius wouldn't allow complacency.

Icarus Tullius was a simple man. He wasn't born a noble but he became leading General of the Imperial Legion by hard work and strong character. Emperor Titus Meade II selected him, and Tullius took a vow that day to protect and serve the Empire with his life. So when news of High King Torygg's murder reached the Imperial capital in Cyrodil, General Tullius knew what would follow. He knew he'd be sent to Skyrim to deal with the rebellion and bring Ulfric's treasonous head to the Emperor - and he intended on doing just that.

Like Ulfric, Tullius was a man of honor - only to a different cause. He meant the vows he recited that day twenty years ago in the Imperial capital, before Emperor Titus Meade II and every priest and politician in Cyrodil. The General didn't serve High Queen Elisif the Fair, but he was sworn to follow her wishes as long as the war kept him in Skyrim. In his twenty or more years of serving in war, Tullius had never signed a truce with his enemy. He saw it as negotiating with the treacherous rebels that started everything. There were days where the hatred Tullius had for Ulfric was so thick it took killing wild game like bear, sabrecat, or wolf to quell the urge to storm the Blue Palace with the entire Imperial Legion at his back and place Ulfric's head on a spike. And now, like his men, he wanted to go home with the war's future uncertain.

But honor brought him here in this foreign land that he was forced to serve. And it was honor that would keep him here. Tullius unraveled a small scroll of paper that lay on his wooden table. It had arrived by raven just earlier in the day. Even though the war had come to a halt, there were other ways for the General to continue on his military duty without bloodshed.

"General Tullius,

The Dragonborn rides North. Her caravan is laying over in Windhelm. She is invited to stay in the Blue Palace by Ulfric Stormcloak himself. My sources tell me they've become quite close. I'll continue my stay here in Kynesgrove while my source continues to scout within the city. We need to know if the Dragonborn and the traitor are forming an alliance...before it becomes one.

-Commander Pavo Arentino"

Other ways indeed.

Katara and Ulfric saddled their horses at the stables outside of Windhelm. Ulfric hired a new stable boy for Arindil. He was just a young lad in his sixteenth year, he had thin short black hair and was thin and lanky. He was a commoner. Ulfric selected him for help on their ride today. He was to tend to their horses. He would ride one of the smaller ponies alongside Ulfric and his caravan.

"Hopefully the winds aren't too harsh up on the overlook.", Ulfric said as he slipped on some brown leather riding gloves. Katara climbed aboard her horse wearing her armor and a bear pelt over her shoulders, cinched tightly around her neck. Brown fur boots and gloves were given to her for warmth, and a blue banner was beautifully draped her white stallion. Ulfric was riding a marvelous white horse that was spotted with browns and blacks. His house colors looked elegant over his saddle. Mounting his brown horse was Galmar, then the stable boy atop his pony. They set out down the snowy Northeast cobblestone road.

"So are you finally going to tell me why you're taking me out to the edge of Skyrim?", Katara asked. Ulfric gave her a grin as their horses trotted along and led the way down the road, Galmar and the stable boy following closely behind.

"Just be patient, you may come to like the ice fields after today.", he replied. Katara was still puzzled, yet she trusted Ulfric. She turned back to Galmar.

"How long have you served the Stormcloaks, Galmar?", she asked, realizing she's never really spoken to Ulfric's second in command despite what they've went through together.

"Since birth. I wasn't born in a fancy palace but I was born a Stormcloak through and through. I'll serve Windhelm until my last breath.", Galmar replied back proudly. Katara pulled her horse alongside his.

"I assume this truce has put you in a tight spot.", she spoke softly to him. Galmar looked around for a moment as if trying to find his words among the falling snow. There was much he wanted to say on the matter.

"I serve in whatever way the one true High King of Skyrim commands me. Our men enjoy being back home while the fighting is at a halt, yes. But they're still ready, and they still thirst for Imperial bloodshed.", he replied. Ulfric grinned back at him from his horse.

"Aye, we all do, brother.", he remarked.

"It was the Empire that stole me from my home and brought me here to this strange land. Then again everything outside of the village was considered strange.", Katara said. Galmar looked over at her, seeing the pain and anger on her face as she recalled that day not so long ago. She looked out to the Ghost Sea that they rode along.

Galmar felt her frustration. "The Empire will pay for what they've done to our people, to our faith, our land...and to you.", he replied as he looked at her with sincere eyes. She met his stare and smiled slightly as she nodded.

"Ulfric is lucky to have a strong commander...and a friend.", she said to him warmly. She could've sworn Galmar's stone set mouth curled into a grin, Ulfric smiled back at the both of them.

"Aye, I am lucky.", Jarl Ulfric said. He then instructed the caravan to pull off the road, the horses walking up to their ankles in snow. He led the four of them into a snowy abyss, not so much as a lamppost or a patch of grass nearby. Several moments passed, then another, then eventually Katara guessed they were almost a mile off the road by now. Her curiosity grew. Finally in the blizzard, a figure began forming up ahead of them. It took the shape of a structure, then finally the vision became clear that it was a home.

They dismounted their horses, the stable boy tying the steeds up to a small two stall stable that sat adjacent the house. He placed carrots and apples in each of their hungry mouths and they chewed contently as he brushed their necks. Katara looked at the house. It was an older house that looked to be abandoned for a while. It had a porch and Katara even saw a forge peeking out from around the side of the house. Confused, she stood next to Ulfric and looked at what was in front of her.

"What is this?", she asked him genuinely. Ulfric fiddled around with something in his robes and pulled out a worn bronze key. He handed it to Katara.

"Well, if it pleases you...this is yours."

Teldryn and Fayleen walked down the streets of the Gray Quarter together. The first thing they noticed was the stone walls of the damp alleys had been cleaned and polished, giving them a shinier finish. The doors to certain businesses and homes were adorned in a fresh coat of paint. The streets were cleaner, far less rats and street trash littering the corners. Ulfric had indeed made improvements to the rather dull Dunmer portion of the city, making the Gray quarter more inviting and welcoming...if even slightly.

Fayleen reached for Teldryn's hand, he gave her an unsure look but then squeezed her own hand with his. Both their cheeks flushed pink and they smiled.

"Look at us, strolling around the city like we're some common townsfolk.", Fayleen remarked. But they both knew they were everything but normal. She was a runaway thief and he was a paid mercenary - they did not lead normal lives like most of the citizens that passed them by in the streets. With their loyalty lying with Katara, they strayed even further from living a quiet and mundane life. But for this moment, surrounded by the musky alleyways of the Gray Quarter they met in and holding each other's hands, they felt normal.

Teldryn stopped them in front of a door, above the threshold read "Athereon Residence".

"Wow, the Athereon brothers still live here? Pity.", he drawled.

"What about them?", Fayleen asked inquisitively.

"The Athereons are a prominent House from Morrowind. Antor and Anthor are Dunmer twins. They came to Skyrim about the same time I did as a young man, except they always carried on about making it out of these drab houses and ruling Skyrim, promising to come back and tear this place down.", Teldryn laughed lightly. "So much for that, eh?"

"Prominent House, you say?", Fayleen sheepishly asked as she peeked around her for a moment. "So in other words, they've got money?"

"Well, yes, the Athereons do but I don't know about the brothers. I mean, they're still living in the Gray Quarter.", Teldryn replied back with a scoff. Fayleen jiggled the door knob, it was locked. It was midday, surely no one would be home.

"I'm sure they wouldn't mind if we stop in for a visit.", she slyly said, plucking a lockpick out from her breast pocket and went to work fiddling with the door. Teldryn looked around hastily then slunk closer to her, shielding her from the view of any citizen passing by.

"Alright, you thieving wench.", he whispered. "But if we get caught..."

"What makes you think I'll get us caught?", Fayleen replied back in a hush as a faint 'click' was heard from the door knob and she pushed the door open with a smile, Teldryn rolling his eyes unamused.

Inside the house was nothing spectacular - wooden walls and floors, no windows, but dimly lit candles placed on every table and in every corner. There was a den with a fire place, a kitchen with a small cooking pot and oven, and a small flight of stairs leading to a loft. There were no obvious riches hidden in plain sight, no family heirlooms proudly sitting in glass cases. But that didn't stop Fayleen from poking around drawers and cabinets, slunking her way from one room to the other. She glanced at the staircase and made her way up, Teldryn following her. There were the Athereon brothers' beds, small and worn. Fayleen spotted a in between the two beds, she grinned wide and reached for the lock. Teldryn grabbed her hand.

"Don't, Fay.", he quietly advised. "Petty change is one thing, but don't take anything that would honor their House name."

She scoffed at him but took another lockpick out of her pocket and began prodding at the lock. Teldryn scooped her up in his arms and pulled her tightly to his chest.

"You don't listen very well do you, Breton?", he drawled close to her face, his arms clutched around her torso. She wanted to defy him, but never was she swept off her feet by a man before. Instead she just looked at him, her face turning from one of annoyance to one of love. He stared back into her eyes deeply.

She grabbed his face with both her hands and planted a kiss on his lips, he squeezed her closer and the two parted the other's mouths for a few quiet moments. He reached his hand up to the nape of her neck to fondle her black billowy curls he remembered the day they met. She wrapped her arms around his neck and they embraced in another kiss, then she swung her lightly dangled legs around his torso, pressing her heels into his lower back.

The two broke away for a slight moment, without a word they shared a look to one another. Teldryn felt her legs squeeze a bit tighter as the bulge in his trousers grew. He looked at her red full lips and then deep into her eyes. He moved a few feet over, making his way to one of the beds as he kissed along her neck and jaw. Fayleen cooed as his strong hand traveled up her nape and gently brought her body down on the unmade bed, kissing her tenderly all while doing so. Her pale nimble hands caressed and explored his broad back and shoulders as he parted her legs with his thighs.

Teldryn stopped for a moment and stared down into Fayleen's emerald green eyes. They were glossy, as if she was drunk, but not with wine - with passion. He felt the heightened rise and fall of her firm breasts press against his chest, felt her breath hot against his lips. Teldryn ground against her inner legs and pelvis, just enough to hear Fayleen's breath catch in the small of her throat. The sweet sound sent shivers down his spine.

He trailed wet hot kisses down Fayleen's neck, her collarbone, and down into her cleavage. He sat up, Fayleen feeling the drafty cold of the bedroom rush between them again. Fiddling with the strings of her pants, Teldryn slipped her trousers over her pale hips, every inch exposed his need to take her grew. He'd be lying if he said he didn't imagine her beautiful naked figure beneath her clothing more than once in the past weeks, just as Fayleen could not deny her desire to know the feel of his swollen sex that was pressed against her groin.

He released her legs from the constraints of her pants and threw them haphazardly down onto the wooden floor. His hand slid up her inner thigh, slightly trembling and feeling Fayleen quiver underneath his touch. He looked upon her mound of damp curly black hair, it was small and womanly - beckoning to him in a primal desire. He rested his broad hand against Fayleen's perfect cunt, then gently he slid his calloused middle finger into her, feeling her wet warmness hug his hand. She purred and a faint moan slipped from her parted full lips.

Teldryn grinned and with his finger still in her he knelt back over Fayleen and kissed her deeply, parting each other's mouths with their tongues. He rubbed her warm sex with his gentle touch, her breaths quickening. She looked up at him and smiled, placing her hands on his chest and pushing him off. He fell back onto the bed, lying on his back Fayleen climbed atop him. She tore off his shirt without haste, kissing down his tall chest and taking her time to trace his purple tattoos that ran from his neck down to his ribs - a decision that was made without second thought on a trip to Black Marsh, the Argonian providence, when he was much younger. Teldryn's never regretted getting them.

Fayleen straddled his hips, quickly making work of his already falling down commoners pants. She slipped the waist over his pelvis and his hard sex protruded, filling the pit of her belly with a warm urgency. It stood tall and erect, radiating heat and smelt musky - that of a man.

She looked up at him and he took her hands in his. Fayleen leaned into him and gently sat herself onto his cock, filling her wet slit completely and slowly. The air caught in her throat again, followed swiftly by a soft pleasurable coo. She rose up once more and brought herself slowly down onto Teldryn, and again, and again, and again until she had wet his sex with her own. Teldryn thrust himself into her with a gentle stroke, feeling her warm walls squeeze around him.

He reached up and began to unfasten the strings at her brown tunic, Fayleen still grinding herself onto his rod. Her vest loosened and he gently slid it off her shoulders, letting it fall against the side of the bed. Her beautiful pale breasts reached towards the ceiling, her supple nipples hardened when they caught the chill of Windhelm that filled them in the room. They matched her lips - full and red as a rose plucked from a blooming wild patch, two perfect buds that begged to be caressed.

Both of their breaths quickening, Fayleen's bucking becoming more deliberate on Teldryn's throbbing member. Suddenly he sat straight up, he wrapped his arms around her torso, his face buried in hers. Fayleen touseled his black mohawk that was now slightly askew, she ran her fingers through his hair.

"Make love to me, Teldryn Sero.", she whispered to him with ragged breath.

He didn't need anymore convincing, in a flash he swung his legs over the bed and hoisted them both up. Fayleen kept her legs wrapped around him, feeling him buried in her cunt. Teldryn cupped her left buttocks with one hand and wrapped his other around her waist. The two of them found a rhythm as he drove himself into her, his thrusts becoming more deliberate. Fayleen's eyes fluttered and she had her arms clenched around his neck, her hot breath coming out raggeded against his pointed elven ear.

Fayleen felt the warm goo-like feeling in the pit of stomach knot up, with each stroke Teldryn brought her closer to ecstacy. For Teldryn, her womanly sex was tight and hot. He fit inside of her the way an arrow fits in its quiver. His groin tightened and he could feel his orgasm welling up inside of him. Teldryn and Fayleen moved against each other, drinking in every detail of one another. With one slow stroke he felt her convulse around him, whimpering and twitching in his ear. Quickly Teldryn hoisted her small frame off him and finished, ecstacy washing over him as he held her tightly. They both quivered and breathed heavily as they lay down on the dingy bed, naked and sweating.

An ornery giggle squeaked from a heavy breathing Fayleen. They both looked at one another with sweat beading their bodies, and smiled. Teldryn gave her a sweet kiss on the lips. She looked at him tenderly for a moment before a wide grin spread across her face.

"Let's do that again.", Fayleen said with a sheepish smile as she climbed back on top of him. Teldryn laughed as she fell into him with a passionate kiss.


	20. Twenty: Whitewind

Chapter Twenty: Whitewind

Katara stood by the stables outside of Windhelm and slipped a pair of brown leather gloves over her small hands. Her hair was pulled up into a loose braid and the chilly air nipped at her tan cheeks, her steeds snorts coming out like hot steam in the air. The teen stable hand was making sure their hooves were tight and their saddles fastened. She looked over to Teldryn and Fayleen who were saddling their horses - a gift of insistince from Ulfric. He wanted them to take three of his healthy stallions with them on their journey to the College of Winterhold. In addition, he gifted them each with new bear pelts and some food for traveling. And to Katara's surprise, he gave her a homestead. She recalled the conversation they shared when she unlocked the door and they took a look around the cabin yesterday:

"Ulfric, I - I don't know what to say.", she stammered as she took in the layout of the home - it had a den and a kitchen with a quaint sitting area. There was a second floor but it didn't sit upon an ascending pair of stairs, it was built into the ground like a cellar. It contained two bedrooms, a few dressers and nightstands, and a dinner table in front of a fire place.

"You don't have to say anything, Katara. I know you travel constantly, and there must be some nights where you're unsure where you'll lay your head next.", Ulfric gently clasped her hands with his, his leather gloves against her skin. He looked at her genuinely. "I want you to know that as long as you're in my hold you'll have a safe spot to call yours. I know it'll never compare to your village but - "

"It's perfect.", Katara replied with wide eyes. She couldn't believe someone could do something so kind for her. Ulfric smiled and released her hands.

"This house belonged to an old hermit. He passed away some time ago and his children sold the house back to the city. I don't know much about this old fella but there is something unique about this place that you should see." He led her to a tall dresser that stood against the wall, as do all standard dressers. He opened it up to cobwebs and dust before pressing his hand firmly against the back of the dresser. Katara was confused until she heard a faint 'click' like that of a lock being pried open. Ulfric pushed the back panel of the dresser and it slid open, revealing an empty and cold room.

They tentatively walked through the wall and into the room. She marveled at the room's contents: two wooden chests - both empty, two mannequins for armor or dressage, a dusty but sturdy alchemists table, and several weapon plaques hung on the stone walls.

"This is extraordinary.", Katara whispered to Ulfric. He nodded in agreement and gazed around the room.

"I'm sure you three will put this place to good use. Although I'm not sure if it's fancy enough for Teldryn.", he smiled. Katara laughed.

"It'll suit us perfectly. Ulfric, are you absolutely sure?", she asked him with sincerity in her grey eyes. He took her hand in his once more and met her gaze.

"I've never been so sure of anything else before." The two smiled at one another and she quickly leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. He scanned her tan face, soaking in her beauty - even in this dark room she radiated.

"You know how to make a cold Nord warm, My Lady.", he drawled.

Katara wanted to show Teldryn and Fayleen the cabin, it was along the road on the way to the College of Winterhold, no more than a mile off road east towards the sea. They could spend their first night in it on their way back once they've obtained the Elder Scroll from the College. The three of them trudged their horses through the knee high snow until the house cleared in their vision. Katara and Teldryn rode up to the snowy yard in front of the door, Fayleen trotted behind the house.

"He just...gave this to you?", Teldryn asked Katara. She nodded, he laughed then he nodded and examined the outside of the house, as if letting it grow on him. "It's damn cold...but I approve.", he said with sincerety in his voice.

"I see why they call this the overlooks now!", Fayleen hollered out to them from behind the house. They trotted over and looked upon what the Breton was exclaiming - the entirety of the Ghost Sea spanning Talos knows how many miles, and lapping the base of the glacier they sat on were crystal ice caps, clear and shattered. It was the same It was beautiful and daunting at the same time, and the three of them admired it with their pelts shielding their eyes from the wind. Teldryn grinned particularly wide when he noticed the blacksmith's forge sitting against the house behind them. The three of them trotted back to the front of the house.

"You know, it's custom that every homestead have a name...", Teldryn mentioned as they looked upon the face of the house once more. Katara nodded her head and grinned.

"Whitewind.", she declared.

Teldryn and Fayleen said the name to themselves over and over again. The name grew, it stuck to them. They grinned at each other then nodded their heads.

They didn't have a kingdom, or a hold, or even a small castle -

But they had Whitewind, and it was theirs. They clicked their tongues and the stallions turned back towards the roads.

Nightfall set upon Windhelm, all the citizens of the city retiring to their homes for the night. A weary Arindil double checked the final stalls to ensure his steeds were secure.

"You better run home to your mother, boy. It's getting dark. That can wait til morning.", he called to his stable hand who was bringing a barrel full of firewood over from behind the stables.

"Aye, sir. Just wanted to make sure we have chopped firewood for morning light.", he replied. Arindil gave him a smile and unlocked the door to his small stable house, nodding goodnight to the teen and walking inside.

The stable boy waited until the door closed before he grabbed a lit torch from the side of the wall and tightened his thin coat around his shoulders. He braced himself against the chilly winds and made his way through the snow and up the road, away from the city of Windhelm. Crossing two small stone bridges over the river that led out to the Ghost Sea, he calculated his footing on the icy cobble stone road. Eventually the stable hand made his way over a snowy slope until he saw the dim candles flickering in the windows and the lantern hung by the front door.

He stuck the end of his torch into the snow to extinguish the flame, a light sizzle and smoke emitting from the oil soaked cloth. The boy walked inside and was met with the warmth of the fire that burned in the middle of the room. He looked over to the counter where he saw the fat innkeeper slunched over in a chair, stains dotting his white apron as he snored loudly. There was a wine bottle beside him on the floor. The stable hand moved closer to the fire and held his hands out, feeling its heat radiate around his arms and torso. Then he walked to the third room on the left.

"Did anyone see you?", a deep male voice asked from the table in the corner of the room.

"No, father. Not a soul."

The brown haired man nodded his head with relief and lifted another spoonful of stew to his bearded mouth. When he swallowed its hearty warmth, he wiped his chin and sat back in his chair.

"What news, boy?", he asked with his brow raised. The stable hand moved closer to his father and sat down at the chair opposite of him.

"He gave her a homestead.", the teen whispered. His father's faced turned to one of disbelief for a moment.

"In Eastmarch? Are you certain?", the man asked, never taking his eyes off his lanky son.

The boy nodded surely. "Aye, an old cabin off the road to the North of the city - overlooking the ice fields."

The man leaned forward in his seat and walked towards the window, looking out into the snowy blackness of the night.

"Father, I'm tired of living in the slums of the city with nothing but cold stone and nobody but the Palace servants.", the boy remarked to his father. The man turned to look at his son.

"Those same servants are the ones who provide you with viable information from inside the Palace. Listen to their gripes in the night when they're in the comfort of their Fleabottom homes - they will prove useful to our cause." The boy sighed and looked down at his lap, there was no use arguing with his father.

"You know why we can't go back to Cyrodil yet, Aventis.", Commander Pavo said to his son. Aventis only nodded. His father stepped away from the window and faced his son with seriousness.

"You can't trust traitors like Ulfric Stormcloak.", he whispered down at his boy. "This is the same man that murdered his own High King, he needs to be watched - even while the war is on hold."

Aventis nodded slightly again as he searched his mind for his next words. "I don't think she's bad though, Father - the Dragonborn. I think Ulfric just happens to...like her."

Commander Pavo snapped his head around to look at his son again. "It doesn't matter what you think, boy. I've been playing war a lot longer than you have. And one thing that you learn is to never trust your enemy. Its because of her that this war is on hold, and we cannot allow the two of them to conspire behind our backs. For all we know they could be teaming up to plot an attack. The General said she rode off into a blizzard on the back of a dragon. Did you hear me, Aventis? Dragons. Gods, can you imagine her and Ulfric storming Solitude on the back of one of those beasts?" Commander Pavo's voice sounded angry and anxious at the same time. Aventis wiped the sweat from his palms onto his ragged trousers. His father was always an intimidating man, as were most men in high ranking military positions.

The Arentino family were Imperials from Cyrodil, and although they were not highborns, the Commander's position in the Legion allowed for his family to live a comfortable life back home. Aventis admired the respect people gave his father growing up. He told his father that when he was of age he would join the army, but Commander Pavo laughed. He always jested that Aventis was too thin and lanky - like his mother. That he could never swing a sword into battle, it would just topple him over. Now he was a year shy of his eighteenth nameday and he'd be eligible to join the Legion.

So a few weeks prior when Commander Pavo asked his son to be a part of a special operation, Aventis - who was eager to impress his father, gladly obliged. If Pavo Arentino saw that his son was capable, he would feel more honored when Aventis joined the Legion. At first glance the boy could pass as a commoner, it's what allowed him to blend in with servants and some of Windhelm's lower ranking citizens. But pretending to be a poor flea was wearing thin on him, he didn't expect he'd actually have to live like one - eating what scraps they can get behind inns and dark alleyways, and even then it was only stale bread and cold porridge. Everyone usually stunk of sewage and dirty snow. He didn't know anybody inside the city, but the Commander insisted he had to fully immerse himself into the role for this operation to be a success. His father was even leery about Aventis' trips a few miles to Nightingale Inn - but he knew it was riskier to communicate via letters in and out of Windhelm. For now he'd tough it out, if it meant his father's praises later. Besides, Aventis had every reason to relish in Ulfric Stormcloak's defeat. If his father helped win the war for the Legion then the pension and accolades his family would receive were abundant. Ulfric was only good to him dead.

But the Dragonborn - Aventis couldn't make sense of it. People spoke highly of her in the Fleabotton of Windhelm. They called her 'Dovahkriid', in ancient Norse it meant 'Dragonslayer' and they whispered their desires for her reign. They wanted Katara to usurp all of Skyrim's Jarls and Kings and Queens and rule land justly and protect us all from dragons. Nordic legends didn't make sense to Aventis as an Imperial, they didn't peak his intrigue. But he didn't perceive Katara as the threat Commander Pavo warned her to be. Not yet, at least. Aventis wasn't physically gifted, but he had the education of a highborn - and he intended on making that his contribution to this war. Even if his father didn't see it.

"If Ulfric is giving the Dragonbitch a homestead in his hold then the two are up to something. Find out what that is, listen to the whispers.", Commander Pavo added. Aventis nodded then quietly spoke up.

"Aye, sir. Perhaps we could share some food before I - "

"Leave me. We can't draw anymore attention to ourselves. I have to write to General Tullius at once.", his father said as we waved him away and grasped for his paper and quill. Aventis Arentino slipped out of the room as Pavo commanded, and back out into the cold night.

Katara, Teldryn, and Fayleen sat around their small fire, huddled under their bear pelts. They stopped under a snowy tree grove off of the road to make camp for the night. A small deer that was killed by Fayleen served as their supper, it's meat was tender and juicy roasting over the fire.

Ulfric allowed each of them to take the horse of their choosing when they left Windhelm earlier that morning. Fayleen chose a mare, she had a beautiful sleek yellowish coat and a black mane and tail - almost resembling the Breton herself. Teldryn chose a speckled steed that had spots of brown, black, and white dotting it's grayish hide. And Katara chose a stallion - black as night with blue eyes. He was gorgeous.

Fayleen watched her horse trot around a tree, as if trying to find a comfortable spot to sleep. Finally the mare settled itself and knelt down to its knees, laying down on the ground with a hard plop and drifting off into its slumber. Fayleen giggled at her.

"What should I call her?", she asked to Katara and Teldryn. He raised his brow.

"Nothing. Once you name it then you get attached to it.", Teldryn replied as he skinned the pelt of the deer, stripping off any excess bits so that he could turn the hide into leather. "Generous gifts, but horses don't seem to fair too well with this bunch."

Fayleen rolled her eyes at him but knew he was right. Still, she had never had a horse of her own before. If she had one, even for it just to die like the other steeds they've had, then it was going to be hers.

"Valkryie.", Katara declaritively spoke up over the cracking fire. Teldryn and Fayleen looked at her. Teldryn raised his brow.

"What?"

Katara motioned to her black stallion. "That's what I'm naming mine."

Fayleen smiled and Teldryn sighed heavily. "I tell you ladies not to do something - you do it anyway. Tis the life of a male spellsword." He continued on cleaning the deer hide.

"Why 'Valkyrie'?", Fayleen asked inquisitively.

"Look at him, he's brutish and frightful. He puts terror in the hearts of people just by his appearance."

The three of them glanced over at Valkyrie, who was laying down beside the other two horses and was twitching his back leg as if having a dream. His tongue poked out from under his snout slightly, drool collecting on it.

"Oh yes, frightful and terrifying.", he sarcastically drawled. Both girls shot him looks but couldn't help to giggle at the steed as well.

Fayleen stared at her horse a bit longer, searching her mind. She cracked a smile when she landed on the right thought.

"Namiira." Katara and Teldryn scrunched their faces. "She's the goddess of shadows.", she answered their confused looks. It was fitting for a thief - a master of shadows. Katara smiled and Teldryn huffed as he threw the finished deer hide to the side and lay down in his bedroll, tugging his pelt over him and trying to reach his body closer to the burning fire for warmth. He glanced over at his speckled stallion and then closed his eyes.

"Ashlander.", Teldryn declared through clenched teeth cold as he pulled the pelt over his neck. "Reminds me of home."

They battled harsh winter winds, even on the main roads. They kept their pelts fastened tightly around their necks and held torches outstretched as their horses battled the blizzard. Ulfric was right, the North was cold and unforgiving. This reminded Katara of when she flew off on the back of Odahviing. A sharp prick of anxiety tugged inside of her at remembering the dragon, Katara only hoped he was alive.

It was as if the sun did not shine in this corner of Skyrim. The light was blurred from sheets of gray and white snow, covering them and everything around them in thick snow. But when they saw the blue burning lights flickering and the stone arches taking shape through the blizzard, their misery lessened.

They had to ride through the town of town of Winterhold, which wasn't much of anything really. From the main road there seemed to only be one dimly lit tavern, a small Jarl's keep, and a guard house. Every other structure was either abandoned or destroyed. It appeared that after the storm devastated the city a century ago, they just never rebuilt. It was a depressing image to ride through, Katara held her torch steady as they trotted along through Winterhold at a slow pace and the three of them glanced around at the despair.

But the sight before them another half mile past the town was one of beauty and vibrancy. The famed College of Winterhold - where mages from all around Tamriel come to study the arcane arts. It was made entirely out of rock and stone, and it had many a tall pointed arches atop its roof and bridge. Oh yes, on its own separate piece of rock island suspended just off the Ghost Sea sat the College itself, there was a narrow and icy bridge connecting it to the mainland. In the middle of the walkway and near the arches were blue lights, but they weren't candles, they were glowing blue orbs - much like the magelight spell.

The three of them trotted their horses to the stone stables just off from the bridge. They paid the stablekeeper their shares for holding the steeds and began their journey over the bridge, marveling at its beauty. There was a strange vibe that could be felt all around them. They knew they were in the presence of magicka and all its ancient power. It was a tingling electric jolt that could be felt by any who have harnessed the power of the arcane arts before. Katara considered herself lucky to know at least some mediocre frost spells for a Nord, having been taught by Fayleen, one of the best.

They approached the front gates, huge iron rods which adorned a sigil of a burning Mandela-like sphere. Katara led the way, and the irons doors opened in her wake. Out walked a Thalmer woman about forty years of age, her yellow hair pulled into two tight pigtails with a pair pointed elven ears sticking beside them. She was wearing a robe that Katara had never seen before, but it was one that Teldryn and Fayleen were familiar with. It was made of purple and gray silks and fashioned into a robe and boots. A fur lined hood draped across the back of her skinny yellow neck, and stitched into her robes was the symbol of a hand with flames coming from the fingertips - indicating that she was a professor in the studies of destruction magicka. She had her hands tightly clasped in front of her. Behind her Katara could see students walking around in basic mages robes, carrying books and scrolls, some with their hoods up and others with it down.

"Welcome, freezing travelers. What is it you seek here at the College of Winterhold?", she asked, her High Elf accent evident - well versed and likely a highborn. Katara stepped forward.

"As outlandish as it may sound, I am Katara - the Dragonborn of Skyrim. I'm seeking to defeat Alduin - the World Eater, and it would appear that my travels have led me here, only for a book.", she answered nobly but friendly. The High Elf raised her brow.

"You're the Dragonborn all of Skyrim has been chattering about?", she asked as she looked Katara up and down. "A book you said?"

Katara nodded. "An Elder Scroll. I was told to find it here."

The Thalmer woman looked surprised at her words. "An Elder Scroll? I don't know what luck you'll have prying it out of Urag's claws...", she shrugged elegantly. "But I can't turn away someone wishing to study the ancient texts. However we don't just accept anyone without our gates, I'll need to see a bit of magicka before you proceed."

Katara nodded. "Aye, so we heard. What's your test?"

The Thalmer searched her mind for a split moment, hands still clasped in front of her. A small smile spread against her thin lips. "Hmm, ah yes. Conjure me a flame attronach. I believe that'll suffice."

Katara looked at her hands then back at the professor, an apologetic expression. "I only know just a bit of frost destruction, I'm afraid.", she said.

"Thats because you're a Nord, dear. Your kind isn't built for the arcane arts.", the High Elf answered matter-of-factly. Katara knew that despite the woman's snobbery, she was right. It was a wonder Katara could learn simple frost as it was. The Thalmer glanced to Teldryn and Fayleen. "Surely one of you Mer could conjure an attronach, however."

All eyes went to Teldryn. He looked to Katara, who gave him a nod. He obliged and stepped forward. The High Elf smiled.

"Ah, the Ashlander. A flame attronach, if you will.", she instructed and looked on intently.

Teldryn stood in front of her and extended his gloved hand. He concentrated and within moments a purple aurora formed in his palm. Just a few feet next to them began to materialize the humanoid figure engulfed in flames. The attronach twirled and spun in its spot, hovering next to Teldryn and awaiting its commands obediently. Teldryn lowered his hand and admired his attronach, there was always a sense of pride when mages could conjure such fantastical life...and make it a deadly tool at the same time.

The High Elf walked over to the flame attronach, looking it over and nodding approvingly. "Well done.", she answered with a smile. She started to walk back towards the gates when she turned and formed a sparking purple orb in her palms. The Thalmer woman flung a searing lightning bolt at the flame attronach, the bolt crackling and sparking through the air as it impaled the flaming figure through its chest. The shock sent the flame attronach shrieking and doubling backwards, eventually levitating off the side of the bridge and plummeting to the choppy waves of the Ghost Sea below. The three of them snapped their amazed heads back to her.

"Beautiful and deadly, yet dimwitted manifestations, aren't they?", she observed with a shrug. The massive iron gates pushed further open behind them. The High Elf extended her hand invitingly. "I am Faralda. Welcome to the College of Winterhold."


	21. Twenty-One: The Opportunity

Chapter Twenty-One: The Opportunity

"It's not often that we welcome guests to our gates, usually just those wishing to enroll at the College. But for the Dragonborn I believe we can make an exception.", a short-haired woman of about forty years said to Katara, Teldryn, and Fayleen as they walked through the open campus of the College of Winterhold. Young aspiring mages wove in between them carrying books and leather bags on their way to other classes. She opened a door and stepped into a huge stone tower that had a winding staircase ascending several stores up. In the middle of the tower on the ground level sat a blue burning fire, similar to the ones that lit the campus. Despite the unnaturalness in color, it felt warm and inviting. The woman made her way up the flight of stairs, the three of them tagging closely behind and taking in everything around them. "We should have two or three bedrooms available, however.", she added.

They passed multiple bedrooms, most with two beds to each room. Some were empty while the students were in class, a few were filled with mages studying books and scrolls at their desks. Students sat in corner tables and talked amongst themselves or marveled at beautiful gems and potions they've proudly concocted themselves. The woman led them to a room that had two large beds on either side of the walls.

"I stand corrected, unfortunately this is all we have at the moment.", she said as she walked into the room and lit the candles resting on the dressers with her fingertips. "If you need anything, just come find me. My name is Mirabelle Evans and I'm the court mage here.", she said as she gave them a warm smile and began to walk out of the room. Fayleen followed after her.

"Would I be allowed to sit in on some classes?", she asked the court mage. Mirabelle's soft face turned apologetic.

"I'm sorry, only students are allowed in classes. However, Tolfdir is known to teach his lessons outside in the courtyard when the weather is tolerable. I couldn't stop you from walking by and catching a glimpse.", Mirabelle replied with a smart smile. "Tolfdir is the only other Breton admistrative mage here besides me."

Fayleen perked up. "I'm a Breton, my mother was an Imperial and my father was a Thalmer." Mirabelle's face lit up with curiosity and she went to brush Fayleen's black curls behind her tall elven ears.

"You don't say? I would've guessed you a High Elf with those ears. Ah yes, I can certainly see Thalmer in you. You are a lucky Breton. My mother was a Bosmer and father a Nord, you can't even tell I'm half Mer. I look rather dull.", she remarked with a slight giggle at herself. "Did your parents study here?"

Fayleen recalled her father's gentle guidance as he taught her simple destruction spells down by the Hjaal River when she was a young girl. He could freeze the water that lapped at the riverbank, then liquify it again with a blazing torrent of flames. She nodded.

"My father did...Macremir Elsinorith. He studied as a mage and apprentice under Arch Mage Savos Aren.", Fayleen answered. It's been a long while since she's said her father's name out loud. Mirabelle's eyes widened and she scanned Fayleen's face.

"You're an Elsinorith?", she quietly asked. Fayleen nodded, a bit confused.

"I've got something that may interest you then, it's down in the Arcaneum.", Mirabelle told her.

"What's the Arcaneum?", Teldryn asked from the doorway of the bedroom.

"It's our library, and much of the ancient knowledge of Skyrim is kept in those bookcases.", she answered him.

"That's just the place we were looking for.", Katara spoke up.

Mirabelle Evans led them to the other side of the College and into the Arcaneum. The smell of old books filled their nostrils upon pushing open the doors. Mixed with the lit candles resting atop benches, tables, shelves, and hanging chandeliers from the huge vaulted ceilings - it made for quite a relaxing atmosphere. The place was quiet as some mages sat at tables with their noses buried in a book. The three of them marveled at the large elegant bookcases and shelves that were filled to the brim with every book ever written, spell tomes, potion scrolls, and biographies as they followed Mirabelle around the Arcaneum to one bookshelf in particular.

"E...El...Elsinore...ah, yes. Elsinorith. Here we are.", Mirabelle said in a hushed voice as she thumbed her way across the spines of a few dozen books until she landed on the right one. She carefully slid out the dusty book and wiped off the cover with her sleeve. She placed it in Fayleen's hands.

Fayleen read the cover, "Elsinorith, Macremir". All apprentices and mages that have studied at the College have their achievements and tenure spent at the school recorded for reference. Talking about her father made her miss him terribly, more so than she had in years. Holding a physical documentation of such a big part his life and who he is was a bit overwhelming for Fayleen. Mirabelle noticed.

"Keep it, at least until you all leave. You don't have to read it here.", she gently said, then she clasped her hand on Fayleen's shoulder. "You're father was a good man. We both studied under Savos Aren.", she said almost motherly. Fayleen's eyes glossed and she clutched the book closer to her.

"Thank you, Mirabelle.", was all she could quietly muster.

Teldryn stepped closer to Fayleen and wrapped his arm around her waist. He gave her a genuine smile then turned back to Katara.

"Let's get that Elder Scroll, yes?", he said to her. Mirabelle cocked her head in curiosity.

"The Elder Scroll? That's what you're here for?", she asked.

"Yes, who could I speak to about it?", Katara replied. Mirabelle looked around at all the bookcases.

"Well, you're in the right place. But you'll probably need to speak with Urag go-Shrub about it. He'd know more about it than I.", she answered, pointing to a large desk on the other side of the room. "I'm afraid I've got to get back now. I'm sure I'll see you around.", Mirabelle answered them as she turned to leave with a smile. The three of them nodded goodbye to her and made their way to the man who she pointed at. He had his back turned to them and was transferring books from one wooden cart to another. He was wearing a dark orange robe with a vest-like shirt underneath, the white of it peeking out from under the river. His desk was littered with strewn about scrolls, books, and a couple quills.

The man sensed that the three of them approached his desk and he spun around, three large books in his hands.

"Huh? What? What do you want?", he gruffly asked. His voice was raspy and upon seeing his face they could tell he was an Orc. His greenish flesh, protruding bottom incisor teeth, and defined brow combined with his stocky physique gave him away. Hay-like hair wrapped in a small ponytail sat tightly on his large head, and his nose was stunted and resembled that of a pigs snout. No doubt he was a native from the providence of Orsinium like most Orcs. Katara was caught slightly off guard by both his abrupt greeting and the fact that he was even here at the College, Orcs were a race not gifted with an inclination to the arcane arts. They were a people who believed in hard labor, often working in ore mines or bruting around the forgotten roads as a mercenaries and bandits...certainly not the Master Archivist of the Arcaneum for the College of Winterhold.

"Uh, my name is Katara. I was told that you have something I may be looking for.", she stammered with Teldryn and Fayleen at her back. Urag go-Shrub furrowed his large brow and set his books down on the counter.

"Yeah? Well, it looks as though you've already helped yourself to something of mine.", Urag answered back as he nodded to the book in Fayleen's hand.

"Watch it, Orc.", Fayleen replied quickly with a glare. He groaned.

"Any way, what is it that I have that you may need?", he asked Katara, crossing his arms.

"I was told you keep the Elder Scroll here.", she replies quite quickly and with a hardened face. Urag's eyes widened and he searched her face for moment, then his toothy scowl turned into an uproarious laugh that bellowed throughout the silent Arcaneum.

"The Elder Scroll? Of course I have it. It's in the safest spot it could be in all of Tamriel. What of it interests someone like the likes of you?", he smugly asked as he glanced at the three of them up and down. Katara looked back at Teldryn and Fayleen, who were glaring at the grumpy Orc. She took a breath and leveled her temper, which was beginning to spike from his rude demeanor.

"Do any of your prestige books tell you about the Dragonborn?", she asked him almost rhetorically and in a whisper. Urag's eyes flicked up to meet Katara's. His face went expressionless but only for a split moment.

"Of course I know of the Dragonborn. A mortal that most philosophers believe were born with the blood of a dragon and have the ability to harness the power of the Voice, like that Stormcloak traitor just to the South of us - he 'Shouted' down High King Torygg, they say. But according to the senile Nords, Alduin - The World Eater, will return to our plane to reclaim the land for him and his reign of dragons." When Urag gro-Shrub relayed his knowledge to them, he did so with a passion underlying in his raspy voice. Although he was a rude and curt man, the Orc had smarts about it.

Katara searched his face for a moment and upon awaiting her response, Urag - being the smart man he was - pieced it together. He nodded at her.

"So you're her, you say? You're the Dragonborn? I was expecting...more.", he remarked with one brown raised in speculation upon her basic iron armor and heavy brown bear pelt. Teldryn and Fayleen stood behind her and she swore they had their hands placed on the sheathes of their weapons, scowling at the Orc librarian.

Katara tried to brush him off, she had gotten good at that since being abducted from her home on Solstheim just a couple months ago. She nodded to him and even tried to offer a small smile.

"Aye, that's me. The Greybeards have guided me here to the College...the Elder Scroll is needed in defeating Alduin. Do you see?", she gently answered him. His face quickly scrunched up and he turned to pluck a book from one of the carts behind him.

"And what makes you think I'd just give it to you? We're talking about one of the most sacred texts known to man...known to Mer...Orc, Argonian, cat, what have you..."

Katara's face quickly hardened again at his lack of understanding for the severity of it all. "I know it's asking for a lot but I - "

"Do you even understand what an Elder Scroll is?", he asked almost gently, cutting Katara off. He extended the book out to her over his tall desk. It was thick and a bit dusty, green in color and leather bound. Katara glanced up at him then carefully thumbed the book open, scanning the pages. Her face twisted to one of confusion after strumming from page to page, Teldryn and Fayleen curiously leaning over her shoulder to peek.

"Is this some sort of joke? What is this gibberish?", Katara asked Urag. Hundreds of old pages that were filled with nothing but odd symbols and jumbled letters. It was an odd language that none of them have ever seen before. She passed the book back to Urag.

"That's a book written in Dovah, ancient Dovah actually - believed to predate mankind. The Elder Scroll is written in this language, and there's only a select few that are able to read it, it's a gift you're born with. Those that have the gift have called themselves Moth Priests.", he answered.

"And where would we find such a skilled person?", Teldryn spoke up. "I've heard of Moth Priests, they're rare, you know."

"Perhaps a Dragonborn could understand it...", Katara thought for a moment. "I am born with the gift of dragon blood."

Urag gro-Shrub squinted his eyes at her again. "It's not that simple, girl.", he growled at her. "Even if you can, there are consequences. Being able to read the Elder Scroll has caused Moth Priests to go blind - sometimes temporarily, sometimes permanently. Are you willing to risk your eyesight, Nord?"

Katara stared at him. "If it meant I saved us all, then yes.", she looked him up and down. "Or I could turn around, hop on a boat back to the Skaal, and forget about the lives of people like you. I'd love to go back home, you know."

Urag scrunched his face angrily and huffed as he shoved the gibberish book back into the cart and grabbed a few small scrolls off his desk and plucked them into the vest of his robe.

"Don't come bug me again.", he said with a scowl on his face as he braced the handle of the cart and pulled it behind him on his way around the room and down into a hallway that led to his chambers.

Katara was already halfway out of the Arcaneum, frustrated at the old Orc.

*Windhelm*

Aventis Arentino pushed a rickety wooden cart carrying cabbages and leeks down the broken stone back alley roads of Windhelm. It was always freezing down here, people could see their hot breaths in the air. Most people wore tattered and dirty clothes and smelled musty. Aventis had found himself sneaking down to the mouth of the ocean sometimes on his way back from his visits with his father, he'd dip his hands in the freezing cold water just to cleanse his face and arms for another day. Most of the people living in Fleabottom were not as hygienic however.

He had to work at the stables shortly and was trying to transfer produce and goods through the city, a task the common beggar often performed for a petty change. But Commander Pavo was serious about his son assuming the role of a commoner in Windhelm, giving him no money or means of living. Aventis had to earn it all on his own, and having come from a comfortable lifestyle, labor was something a bit foreign to him. He was dropping a cabbage or two every other step once he made his way down a bumpier back road, muttering curses under his breath at each one plopping to the ground under his feet.

"Have you never worked before, boy?", a voice similar to a hiss spoke up behind him. Aventis stopped the cart abruptly and turned to the voice. It was a middle aged Imperial man, dark skinned with black shoulder length hair. He was wearing purple robes and pants that were trimmed with green and gold fabrics. He had clunky brown and gold bracelets and necklaces. He certainly stood out among the other citizens of Windhelm, even more so down in the slums. He was holding the dropped cabbages.

"I've worked. Now hand them over, I've got to be on my way.", Aventis said in a hurry as he reached for the cabbages in the man's arms. The man stared at the boy and jerked away, not allowing him to take the vegetables. Aventis' eyes glared in frustration and annoyance.

"You haven't. I can tell. You're an Imperial, no doubt from Cyrodil. I can tell it in your voice...and the fact that you've never gotten your hands dirty before.", the mysterious man remarked to him. "I too am an Imperial...living in a Nord's land just like you."

"Who are you?", Aventis replied quickly as his patience wore thin. He was a bit on edge, worried about the possibility of this stranger knowing who he really was and why he was in Windhelm in the first place.

"I am Calixo Corrium, a simple shop merchant with a love for...the beautiful oddities that life has to offer.", he replied with his mouth turning into a big smile.

"Your accent...you don't sound like you're from Cyrodil.", Aventis pointed out, still unwary of him.

"Ah, but I am. I have traveled all around Tamriel and have picked up a piece of the land from every providence I've visited. A bit of every culture has attached itself to me and helped shape me into the man you see before you.", he said almost proudly. Aventis scoffed lightly.

"I think your accent is fake and you're just putting on a show to appear more interesting and noble.", Aventis remarked at him. As quick as the words left his mouth, Calixo grabbed the boy's chin and turned his face to meet his eyes. It was the first time Aventis really noticed the strange man's eyes. They were green but not just traditionally green - a very light green, almost yellow. They stood out boldly against his tan skin.

"I've seen more interesting things my childhood than you'll ever see in your entire life, boy.", he released Aventis' chin, his face flushed red and eyes wide at the man. "Some of those interesting things I keep on display in my shop. You should stop by sometime - Calixo's House of Curiosities.", Calixo handed the cabbages back to Aventis and began fishing around for something in his pocket. He plucked out a few septims and tossed them to the boy, who missed the catch and let them fall to the cobble stone road with a jingle. Aventis bent down to gather the scattered coin off the dirty road. "Become a believer in the interesting things your world has to offer to you.", Calixo added.

Aventis picked up the last cold coin and knelt back up, turning to the man.

"I still think you're - ", the boy started to say. He trailed off when he looked around and found Calixo Corrium nowhere to be found.

Aventis rushed his way across the city of Windhelm with his coin sac of petty change jingling as he ran. He was late for his shift at the stables, surely Arindil would not be pleased. He was a kind Wood Elf but valued hard work...and punctuality. He pushed open the stone gates and jogged out over the icy bridge, feeling his footsteps catch on a slippery stone every so often. Aventis slowed down as he approached the Windhelm stables, to his surprise Arindil was standing out front with a shovel and watching him come closer.

"You're late.", Arindil said as he looked up at the sun. Aventis approached, his brow a bit sweaty and out of breath.

"I'm sorry, sir. I got held up on the other side of the city.", the boy apologized as he immediately went to grab the second shovel from off the wall, still trying to catch his breath.

"There's no work here for you today, boy.", Arindil said to him. Aventis looked confused for a moment.

"The Jarl's men were here earlier looking for you. Jarl Ulfric has summoned you, you need to go.", Arindil said as he plucked the shovel out of Aventis' hand.

The boy's stomach dropped. His heart rate jolted for a moment. "Did they say what the Jarl wanted me for?"

Arindil shook his head. "No. But you had better not refuse a Jarl's summoning, boy. Go."

Aventis Arentino approached the doors of the Blue Palace. By now he could feel perspiration under his arms and the undersides of his feet. His heart raced in his chest and his stomach was in knots, the watery potato stew he ate earlier in the day swirling around in his gut. Thoughts raced through Aventis' mind, but only one question stood out as he repeated it to himself - has Jarl Ulfric found him out? Gods help any man found guilty of spying on a true Nord like Ulfric Stormcloak for the enemy.

The guards donned in their Stormcloak armor pushed open the doors for Aventis and he felt the warmth of the low burning fires in the room swarm his cold flesh through his ragged clothing. He had been in the Imperial Palace a couple times before back home in Cyrodil, everything draped in Empire red and trimmed with gold. The Blue Palace was nowhere near as big at the Imperial capital, but it was still the fanciest lodging he's seen in several weeks since assuming this role in the war.

"Approach, young lad.", Jorleif called out to him as he stood next to the throne. Aventis saw Ulfric sitting in the throne, looking stone cold and poised as he always does. Galmar was standing off to his right. He approached the throne of the traitor of Skyrim.

"You summoned me, my Jarl?", he asked to him in a bow.

"Aye, I did. What's your name, boy?", Ulfric asked him. Aventis' heart was drumming loudly in his ears, he looked down at the ground.

"Aventis, sir.", he stammered. Ulfric leaned forward in his throne and stared at the boy.

"Arindil tells me you're a big help around the stables. Do you remember when you traveled with the Dragonborn and I during her visit just a few days ago?"

Aventis raised his head slowly to meet the Jarl's stare. He was confused as to where this was going, but he kept his composure. He nodded his head. "Yes, sir. I do."

"You speak proper for a peasant.", Ulfric noticed.

"I picked it up while serving highborns and nobles in the past, my Jarl.", Aventis lied, thinking quickly on his feet.

Ulfric sat up and approached Aventis. "I called you here today because I want you to accompany my caravan on a trip to Fort Kastav. Many of our troops are staying there until the war has resumed. I want to bring them any supplies they may be in need of, as well as a few bottles of Nord mead to lift their spirits.", Ulfric smiled at him. "I could use a reliable, well-spoken squire beside me."

Aventis' eyes widened and he bowed to Ulfric. "I don't know what to say, Jarl Ulfric..."

"Don't say anything, just join me tomorrow morning by the stables when we head out. We'll be there for a couple days. I can provide you with warmer clothing than the ones on your back.", he replied.

"Thank you, my Jarl. Thank you. I promise I won't let you down.", Aventis kept saying to Ulfric as he bowed profusely. He and Ulfric shook hands and he started his way out of the throne room, eager to tell his father this delicious news.

Commander Pavo was both rattled and pleased with the news his son brought him. The thought of him being so close under the nose of the sworn enemy made him feel uneasy - but the information Aventis could gather while visiting Fort Kastav was of the Legion's utmost concern. He sat at the table across him his son, tapping his knuckles on the tabletop and thinking.

"And you set off tomorrow?", he asked his son in a very business-like manner. Aventis nodded.

"Yes. We'll be gone for a few nights he said."

Commander Pavo sighed and then leaned in to his son, staring at him with a stone face. "Listen to me when I say this, son. I want you to listen to everything that treasonous snake says, listen and watch. I want you to get close to Ulfric, but not too close. If he finds out who you are...Aventis, do you know what will happen?"

Aventis gulped, although he knew. "He'll have my head."

"It'll start the war again, and it won't be pretty.", the Commander said at almost the same time. Aventis looked at his father with a bleak face, the first thing his father thinks of is the war - not his only son? The boy only nodded to save face. He would bring his father honor by giving him the enemy's secrets.

"What will you do here while I'm away? I cannot write to you from Fort Kastav, it's too risky."

Commander Pavo jumped up from his chair and went to fetch his scroll of paper and quill. "I will write to General Tullius of this news, then await your return until I write him again. You just need to make sure to pay close attention to everything he says, use that big brain of yours."

Aventis nodded, he understood his orders. However he also knew how his father was, so Aventis sat up in his chair and began to leave so as not to burden Pavo anymore with his presence.

"Son...", the Commander gently spoke out to him. "I have faith in you."

His father's words made Aventis Arentino brim with pride. The teen stable hand turned and left, he had to rush back to Fleabottom to pack his belongings for the next few days.


	22. Twenty-Two: Telekinesis

Chapter Twenty-Two: Telekinesis

*Windhelm*

The last of the three caravans were loaded and secured - one stocked with food and drink, the other packed with warm clothing and fresh bedding, and the final one carried Jarl Ulfric's belongings and the necessities needed for camping. Fort Kastav was about a day and halfs travel by horse. It was just to the west of Windhelm and stood as the hold's first line of defense from the western roads. There were several other forts within the hold of Eastmarch and Ulfric had been keeping track of which forts needed proper food and supplies for the Stormcloak troops they harbored. Some of the the troops were able to return to their homes if they lived in Windhelm or the hold once the truce was struck, but there were still many troops that had joined Ulfric's side and hailed from other holds originally. They could not return home for the vulnerability of being scattered. Galmar was instructed by Ulfric to give those men and women the forts as lodging while the war was on hold. Confined within the walls of a cold fort for Talos knows how long waiting the day you were called to return to the battle fields again was taxing on the troops. Ulfric Stormcloak wanted to keep their morale up, the brave men and women who followed him into this war with their shields at his back.

Galmar sat atop his brown steed that was almost as rugged as he was. Aventis double checked his saddle to ensure it was fastened, he brushed the mane of the horse and primped its blue Stormcloak banners, the same banners that started this war, that sent his father here - sent him here.

"Aye, boy. Are you done yet? We have to get moving.", Galmar grumbled over Aventis from the saddle. The boy tugged quickly on a few of the strappings to ensure its tightness and bowed out to Galmar. Ulfric approached from the side on his white stallion, adorned in his fine blue clothes and armor, his iconic bear pelt pulling it all together. He held the reigns tightly in his gloved hands.

"I believe we're all set. Let's get a move on.", he said, nodding to the boy's horse. Aventis walked away and mounted his smaller mare. Ulfric made his way to the front of his group and turned the horse to address his traveling party. "Alright men, we should reach Fort Kastav by nightfall tomorrow. Tonight however we'll have to make camp in Giant's Pass. Are we ready, Galmar?", he asked his second in command. Galmar looked back at the three caravans and just over a dozen Stormcloak soldiers that sat inside or stood alongside the carriages. He nodded back to Ulfric. "Good. Let's not keep our kinsman waiting.", Ulfric added. With the click of his tongue and flap of the reigns, Galmar and Aventis at his back, the Jarl of Windhelm led his caravans over the icy stone bridge and towards the western roads, their maps marked for Fort Kastav.

The clouded morning sun ushered in a new day at the College of Winterhold, however Katara awoke feeling just as she had before she slept. Urag had given them such a hard time yesterday about the Elder Scroll. Katara never had a cushy life growing up in the Skaal. Everyone had to work to earn their share in the village, and there was no concept of luxury amongst the group of nearly primitive individuals. She was used to not getting her way and she didn't require much through her life to feel satisfied. But now, more than ever, it was imparitive that things work in her favor. If she ever intended on defeating Alduin and restoring peace to the land, then corporation was key. She had to convince the stubborn Orc of letting her have the Elder Scroll, somehow.

What light that was able to squeeze it's way into the room through the small window was gray and snowy - just as it was yesterday. It felt as if the sun never shined in this frigid place. A few candles burned on the nightstands and dressers. Katara rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and glanced over at the bed opposite of her. It was empty - Teldryn and Fayleen not in it.

Some time later Katara found herself outside and in the middle of the College. Students were buzzing all around her. She made her way further into the courtyard and looked around at all the various doors that lined the stone walls of the College. Some were classes, others were labs and of course the Arcaneum, and one door that stood out in particular. It had the same symbol as the front gates - a burning Mandela-like sphere. Behind the iron sculpted sigil were two wooden double doors, very large doors. Katara was unsure what lie behind those doors. But she did know what lie in the one off to her left - a small tavern. It looked as if it doubled as the main kitchen for students but there were bound to be tables and chairs inside...

Which is exactly where Katara thought she'd find him - Teldryn Sero, sitting calmly on a barstool, lifting a wooden mug of wine to his dark lips. She sighed endearingly and stepped over to him. He turned around and looked at her unenthusiastically, his mug in hand.

"Don't give me that look. I'm not a student here, I can drink as I damn well please.", he remarked matter-of-factly. Katara shook her head at him and smiled. She plucked the cup out of his hand and took a big swig before setting it down on the bar. He couldn't help but smile.

"Is there a reason you look so pathetic?", Katara joked to him half seriously. Teldryn did look rather gloomy. He shrugged.

"I missed my chance. Here. At this.", he lowly said as he motioned to the walls around him, the College itself. "I'm too old to study here, by about five years I'd say." There was a genuine look of longing in his red bulging eyes.

"I've seen your magicka, Tel. There's nothing left for you to learn. You're an excellent mage, you know. You just want me to compliment you.", Katara said sincerely with a jest at the end, albeit a truthful one. Teldryn offered his small smile and chewed on her words in his mind. He knew he was indeed a skilled mage, but he still longed for an opportunity to have studied at the College with some of Tamriel's most knowledgeable mages.

"Yes, yes. I suppose you're right.", Teldryn answered back with a laugh. Katara smiled at her friend.

"Where is Fayleen?", she asked.

"Wandering around the courtyard I believe. Why? I don't know. I'm not the girl's keeper.", he replied with a smart smile. Katara raised her brow at him and rested against the edge of the counter. She thought for a moment, Teldryn sitting in silence and taking another big gulp from his mug.

"How am I going to convince this Orc to give me the Elder Scroll?", she asked out loud to no particular person, half declarively and half inquisitivly. Teldryn sighed heavily.

"He is a rather pain in the ass, isn't he?", he quietly replied quietly to her. The two of them nodded on agreement. "Give it time. I imagine within a couple days we'll have worn him down enough that he should just hand it over."

Katara wished that would be the case, but sooner rather than later.

Fayleen leaned against one of the massive stone pillars that suspended the courtyard in the College. She stood several feet away from the class of students that gathered together out on the stone balcony. They all had their hoods up and robes tightly fastened against the cold rain of snow, even though this was considered a good day in Winterhold. An elderly man stood in front of the group of chatting students. He was wearing robes like the other teachers and the symbol stitched onto the fabric was one of a tree - half of the tree with bare dead branches and the other half in a full bloom of leaves - alteration magicka. He had pale wrinkly skin and deep brown eyes. Underneath long gray hair that fell past his shoulders were a set of small pointed elven ears. No doubt this was Tolfdir, the other Breton mage that Mirabelle spoke of.

"Settle down now. Alright class, today we're going to be practicing a novice telekinesis spell. It's when you're able to draw something to you, something small in this instance." The class began to scribble his words into their books. Tolfdir set down a brown leather bag that was clapsed in his hands. He knelt down and fished around inside, pulling out a ball, no bigger than the palm of a hand and made out of twine. He set it on the ground and rolled it across the balcony away from him, the students watching his every move.

"Now, when performing a telekinesis spell you must channel your breath to the word 'here'. At the same time, never take your eyes off the object you wish to move. Look at it, recognize it, know it. Inhale with the image of the object in front of you, exhale with 'here'." Tolfdir extended his frail hand and looked at the small twine ball. His hand began to glow a dull red color, the aurora swarmed his pale fingertips. The students looked on as the ball began to twitch and roll. With an ever so slight move of his hand, Tolfdir levitated the ball off the ground and drew it nearer to him. The students looked on intently and jotted down any notes of their observations.

"Fascinating, isn't it?", a well versed voice suddenly boomed from beside Fayleen. She turned and found a High Elf man, in his early forties, spectating the lesson along with her. He had a high forehead and sharp facial features, like all Thalmer. His yellow skin almost seemed to match his blonde hair that fell just past his large pointed ears, ears which were pierced with gold hoops from his top cartlidge down to his lobes. He was wearing fine robes made of fur and gray silks and fabrics. His hands were shrouded from the cold in the long sleeves of his robes.

"Yes, telekinesis is a beautiful spell.", Fayleen muttered back, only half listening. She turned her attention back to the lesson. Tolfdir had brought his ball back to his hand, and with his other hand had levitated several other twine balls out of his bag, all of which suspended in the air in front of his students - who were smiling in awe.

"Everyone take a ball and practice amongst yourselves.", he instructed his students as he levitated one ball to each of them.

"Beautiful? I'd say...useful.", the Thalmer man replied to her. She unattentively nodded without so much as looking at him. Her interest lie with the lesson. She watched as one khajit quickly went to work rolling his ball away and focusing, straining more like it, on the object with his paw outstretched. Tolfdir quickly jumped to his side and lowered the cat's arm.

"Dont strain too hard, J'zargho. Inhale and exhale...", he elderly advised. The khajit mimicked his motions.

"Tolfdir, now that's a fine teacher.", the High Elf stranger spoke up again. Fayleen did hear him this time, and she had to agree. Just from watching how the old man taught his class she could tell how passionate he was about his skill, and how experienced he was in the arcane arts. She couldn't even imagine the plethora of alteration spells he probably knew.

"Indeed. I'd love to have studied under him.", she replied back. The Thalmer cocked his head inquisitively.

"You're not a student here?", he asked her. She turned her attention to him and shook her head.

"I would've if I was younger perhaps, and if Savos Aren were still here."

"Ah, now there's a name I haven't heard in a while."

Fayleen's eyes widened in disbelief. "Savos Aren? Does the College not revere him?", she asked the Mer almost defensively. The Thalmer almost shrugged.

"We do remember him, one could never forget Savos Aren. But he was no different, no more special, than the Arch Mages who came before him. We light a candle in the Hall of Elements every year on the anniversary of his death, as the College does with all Arch Mages of the past.", he replied back matter-of-factly.

"Savos Aren was more influencial than any other Arch Mage before him...and any to come after him.", Fayleen snapped back, her voice one of annoyance. The High Elf furrowed his brow at her words. Tolfdir noticed them talking off to the side and spectating his lesson. He smiled warmly and began to walk over to them.

"Ah, Ancano. I wasn't expecting your presence during today's lesson, always welcome however. This new bunch shows promise. I'll have them moving buildings before the semester is over.", Tolfdir said with a lighthearted chuckle. His attention turned to Fayleen, who had flushed pink upon realizing she had been ignoring Arch Mage Ancano Telmithevary this entire time. She searched her mind for words to cover her embarrassment but the Tolfdir continued. "Who's this? Have you brought me a new pupil?", he asked almost curiously.

"Actually we have yet to be properly introduced. I'm Ancano...the Arch Mage here at the College of Winterhold." His words tasted like vinegar to Fayleen, and he knew it. "And you are...?"

"Fayleen.", she finally muttered once the words came to her.

"Ah, yes. Fayleen. No, I'm afraid that Fayleen here has no desire to attend the College, and we respect all those who don't.", Ancano answered in faux passiveness. "Now, I have other duties to tend to. If you'll both excuse me.", he added as he nodded goodbye to both of them. Tolfdir turned his attention to Fayleen.

"He's a good Arch Mage, Ancano is. But he's no Savos Aren.", he gently said as he warmly smiled and walked back his group of students that had their twine objects floating all around.

The three of them huddled around the small table that sat in the corner of their room. They spent most of the day looking around the College and observing what they could of the arcane-like energy that vibed around them. Now they enjoyed small bowls of soups and mugs of wine up as their room darkened every few minutes with the setting sun, candles flickering atop dressers and nightstands.

"I feel useless. What can I do to appeal to Urag in order to obtain the Elder Scroll?", Katara asked out loud as she sipped her wine.

"Perhaps you could speak with Mirabelle. She knows him better than us, maybe she knows what can persuade him.", Teldryn replied back as he lifted a steaming spoonful of potato soup to his lips. "I know what persuades most men...", he added with a sly smirk. Both Katara and Fayleen rolled their eyes but Fayleen shrugged.

"He's right, you know.", she said with her brow slightly raised as she cleaned the toe of one of her leather boots with a damp cloth. Katara shot her a look and shook her head.

"I'm not doing that. There are other ways, I assure you.", she said annoyed. "What about the Arch Mage here? What's his name again?"

"Ancano.", Fayleen replied quickly. "I met him today."

"You met the Arch Mage today?", Teldryn asked.

Fayleen stopped polishing her boots and looked up at him. "Inadvertently. He was observing the same class that I was."

"Do you think he'd be willing to help?", Katara asked with a twinge of hope in her voice.

"Maybe. Him and I didn't really get off on the right foot."

Teldryn set his soup spoon down almost dramatically. "What did you do, woman?", he huffed at her. She squinted her eyes at him.

"Nothing...overtly...bad. I just said that Savos Aren was a better Arch Mage than those who came before him and those who will come after him.", she said as she intentionally trailed off towards the end. "But it was before I knew I was speaking with Ancano. He really should have a sign on him or something.", she added quickly. Teldryn rolled his eyes and Katara couldn't help but shake her head with a small smile on her face.

"Well, I may just stick with Tel's plan and speak with Mirabelle more about it tomorrow. It certainly wouldn't hurt.", Katara spoke up as she lifted another sip of wine to her mouth. "What do you think we'd all be doing if we weren't doing this?", she asked to both of them. This caught Teldryn and Fayleen off guard for a moment. Fayleen sat back in her creaking wooden chair and her mind wandered in thought.

"I guess if I would still be in the Thieves Guild back in Riften.", she marinated on the dream she once held of becoming the Guildmaster. Her mind flashed to Maven Black-Briar's death unfolding in front of her as she stood in Jarl Froki Law-Giver's Keep under arrest - just moments before Teldryn and Katara pulled her into the Riften canal and they fled the city without looking back, every belonging she had still stowed away in a chest at the end of her assigned bed down in the cistern. She wondered what the members of the Guild thought when they learned Maven was poisoned and why Fayleen never returned back from a job.

Teldryn thought back to the day when a petite Skaal woman waltzed into the Retching Netch and offered to hire his services. Without an act so simple, he very well could still be sitting in that tavern, still awaiting the day for someone to hire his blade. But as fate would have it, Katara was no ordinary patron, and now his fate lie with her and the prophecy. "I would probably still be waiting back on Solstheim.", he finally answered.

"What if no one hired you?", Katara asked him. He titled his head and shrugged his shoulders.

"Oh, I would get hired I assure you. It would just be a matter of time. But, if I grew bored then I imagine I'd head back home - to Morrowind. Try my luck in the capital.", he replied.

"What about you, Kat?", Fayleen gently asked. Every kind of memory and thought flooded Katara's mind. She liked to think that if she were not thrown into this new life then she'd be back in the Skaal village still collecting clams on the shores of the Ghost Sea, prying for pearls to give to Aela. Katara wondered about her, how that sweet girl must have grown in these past months. If she was okay, if the people were okay, the village...

"I'd be home.", was all she could reply.

The sun had fully set on the snowy day and all that lay ahead of them on the cobble stone roads was darkness and pine trees. The soldiers that walked alongside the carriages held torches extended in their armored hands. In the right passing, boulders and stones could be seen along the side of the road, just off into the treeline. The stones were painted red with tribal markings, some even had nets made of bones and dried human and animal intestines draped over them. The looming pine trees seemed to be over a hundred feet high, although they probably just seemed huge from Aventis' view on his pony. Ulfric told them they'd have to make camp in Giant's Pass tonight, no doubt they had reached it. The stones were a warning to the common passerby that this was Giant territory.

Ulfric gave a signal to his caravans and led his horse into a clearing off the side of the road, his men followed. He led them far enough into the woods where their lights could not be seen by any troublesome thieves on the roads, but still close enough to the roads in need of a sure way out - especially in these snowy hills of Skyrim. Giants were often peaceful creatures, towering over simple humans with a height at fifteen feet or more. But their stature coupled with their primitive nature made them unpredictable, and they wielded weapons - most commonly clubs, they were not intelligent enough to swing swords. But a mammoth hip bone was used as the clubs, twice the size of the average man. It's observed that Giants are the only creatures able to live peacefully with mammoths, and that they even rode them into what wars they've fought in.

The Stormcloak soldiers quickly went to work setting up a camp consisting of a few tents, two cooking pots, a dozen bed rolls, and firewood. Aventis tied the horses to nearby trees and logs and fed each of them. With each carrot he plucked out of the sac and into the horses mouth, he kept his eyes wary on the dark woods around him, a low burning fire the only light flickering through the shadows of the trees onto the snowy forest floor. Aventis had heard the stories of Giants, how they've been known to split a man straight down the middle with two hands, his intestines falling to the cold forest floor.

"Don't worry, boy. You'll hear them first.", a man's voice spoke up behind him. Aventis turned to find Galmar with a smirk on his face. "They're huge bastards, you can't miss them stomping around."

That didn't make Aventis feel any better or any worse. Nevertheless he scratched the snout of the horse gnawing on its carrot and turned to step by the fire to warm himself where the other men gathered. Ulfric was addressing his traveling party with a mug of Nord mead in his hand.

"It's cold tonight, isn't it lads?", he said as he stood by the fire, his men nodded and cracked a couple smiles. Ulfric looked down into the fire then up into the cloudy night sky, the moon barely visible. "It is only when the cold season comes do we know the pine and cypress to be evergreens. That's an old Nordic proverb...and it rings true." The Stormcloak soldiers followed Ulfric's gaze into the tops of the pine trees that were caked with white snow. When everything else died in winter, they thrived, and they were beautiful.

"These faithless Imperials don't know how to fight in these conditions. That's why we have the upper hand on them, men. Don't forget that. When this war resumes then we will be on the victorious side. The Bear is built for winter, and Skyrim is nothing but snow.", he said with a soft passion in his voice. The group of soldiers held their mugs out to him and nodded in agreement. Aventis felt something nudge his arm, it was Galmar with a cup of mead extended to him.

"Do you have hair on your chest yet or not? Here, it'll warm ya.", he said. Aventis accepted the cup and sipped the foamy ale. He didn't quite like the taste of it but he stomached it to save face around the burly men. The soldiers went on about their business around the campfire and Ulfric turned to walk towards the boy.

"My father always liked to say a word of encouragement to his men, even if there was no battle to follow.", Ulfric said to Galmar and Aventis. "It keeps their spirits up."

"Aye, and we'll be ready for the day when we take Solitude and reclaim Skyrim once and for all.", Galmar said proudly as he raised his mug to Ulfric, the two clanked their drinks together. Galmar walked over to the group of soldiers to cut up and chat with them.

"He's a good man.", Ulfric said to Aventis as he watched Galmar laugh with a few of the soldiers over a hunting story he had begun to tell. "He's loyal. I need loyalty on my side. Do you know how we met, Galmar and I?", he asked. Aventis shook his head. "I was just a boy, maybe even ten or so years younger than you. My father, being the Jarl, allowed me to have free reign of most of the city. However there were some scarce locations I was forbidden to go to, the river was one of them. The water that laps at the side of Windhelm is the coldest in all of Skyrim - it comes in from the Ghost Sea." Aventis knew what Ulfric meant, he had been using the frigid waters to wash himself every other day, nearly escaping hypothermia every time he risked it. "One day, being the curious lad that I was, I defied my father's orders and went down to the river, walked right out the front gates. My wet nurse had told me stories of slaughterfish with sharp needle-like teeth. I wanted to see how real they were. Well I knelt down beside the riverbank and felt the sharp prick of the ice against my palms, it was so cold that it actually stung, like a bite. When I tried to get up off my hands and knees I lost my balance like the clumsy boy I was - I toppled right over into the river." Aventis listened attentively to Ulfric's story telling, it was a gift that came naturally the brute Nord. "You don't know what cold really means until you're in over your head and the current is dragging you to the mouth of the Ghost Sea. My body felt like a child's play toy being tossed about, I didn't even know how to swim but if I did then I still would've been paralyzed from the sheer ice water. I saw my life flash before me, and in what I thought were my last sights was a young Galmar and two or three other boys rushing towards me from the other side of the riverbank. I felt the icy bite of the water closing around my throat but I also felt Galmar's hand grab my arm and heave me out of the river. He and the other boys carried me all the way back to the Blue Palace and threw me at the feet of my father, who called upon every healer in the Palace to warm me and stop any hypothermia." Ulfric looked away from the campfire and at Aventis. "My life has flashed before my eyes many more times since then, but I owe the opportunity to Galmar. I knew from that moment there was no other man as loyal as he, and we became like brothers. I never again feared the cold after that."

Aventis leaned against a tree and absorbed his story for a moment. Ulfric spoke again before he could find the words.

"What about you, what brought you from Cyrodil?", he asked. Aventis' eyes widened and he stammered for his words. Ulfric laughed at him. "Yes, I know you're an Imperial. No, I do not hate your people because I'm a Stormcloak. I know as well as anyone that you can't control who you're born as, only what you become."

A wave a relief crashed over Aventis, moments like this with Ulfric were both intimidating and useful, but risky. The boy was on edge. He mustered to swallow down a big gulp of his mead before he found his heart rate again. "My family moved here years ago to escape the Empire's control. They wanted a better life for me. Disease took both my mother and father a couple years ago. I didn't have enough coin to keep our farmhouse and I moved to Windhelm trying to earn honest wages.", he eloquently lied.

"Sorry to hear, lad. When we get back to Windhelm then you have my word to receive double your usual stable pay for accompanying me on this trip.", Ulfric sincerely said. Aventis was actually taken aback slightly. He nodded lightly bowed gratiously.

"Jarl Ulfric, thank you.", he couldn't help but reply half genuinely. The extra coin would certainly help him. Aventis went on to say something else but felt a small vibration in his mug of mead. He looked down at his feet and felt it as well, and judging by the sudden alert faces of Ulfric and silence of the soldiers, he wagered that they felt it as well. Noise quickly followed the shaking, crunching sounds, like that of branches being snapped back and twigs breaking underneath the snow forest floor. The noise was coming from behind them and it grew, Aventis and Ulfric stepping back from the treeline and into the clearing with the other men and the fire. The shaking became stronger and rhythmic, like footsteps - footsteps that began to make the snow that clung to the pine needles shake from their branches and fall to the ground with each stomp. Aventis heard the nearly synchronized 'shink' of the soldiers swords being unsheathed.

"That sword at your hip there, do you know how to use it, boy?", Ulfric asked him, never taking his eyes off the direction the stomping came from although the source had yet to emerge as it grew more violent and loud. Aventis clasped his hand on the pommel of the sword fastened to his side. Ulfric had given it to him before they saddled out. Truthfully he had never used a weapon before in practice or even just to have, his father never thought he'd be good with a blade - certainly not for defense against the beasts that roam Skyrim's snow forests. He shook his head and kept his eyes glued to the trees as well. The branches began to snap back and the form of a Giant was beginning to take light in the flicker of the fire. He was massive, hideous...and wielding a massive bloodied mammoth hip bone as his club. With a slow and crisp sound, Ulfric pulled out his battleaxe from behind him. It was shined and polished and had an icy blue shimmer to its blade against the fire light. He called it Chillrend, and it is said to have the power of frost, burning its bite with ice.

"Swing for the ankles, but don't step too close.", he said to him as the Giant emerged from the treeline with a shriek, more of a roar, that bellowed through the camp and the forest around them, clearly unhappy with them being in his land. Aventis pulled out his sword and stood ready, trembling.

Two archers aimed their arrows for the Giant, one soaring into his collarbone and the other right through his left eye. The Giant cried out in pain and stomped around, Aventis lost his footing and fell back while the beast pulled out the arrow - along with his eye - and screamed in anger. A few of the soldiers lunged forward and began stabbing at the legs of the Giant, the archers still slinging arrows at him. With a cry of his own, Ulfric lurched at the Giant with Chillrend and landed a clean slice to the creature's ankle, as thick and huge as the trunk of a tree. Blood spurted out when Ulfric pulled the blade from the Giant's ankle, and it sent the beast doubling over onto one knee, raising his club and bringing it down to the ground with earth shaking force, the tied horses whinning and reared up. Luckily the men dodged the swing and continued to keep their distance and slicing at the Giant when safe to do so. Aventis tried to find his footing and saw a clear sight of the Giant, vulnerable with his torso brought to the ground. The boy braced himself and ran towards the beast, his sword straightened in his hands. Aventis winced and felt like he could've blacked out when he closed his eyes as his blade plunged into the stomach of the Giant. A roar erupted from him, and it could be felt in the pommel at Aventis' hands as the sword stuck inside the creature like a sewing needle to a ball of yarn. He felt a huge hand land on his shoulder as he was jerked back by his bear pelt by Ulfric, his sword coming with him and spilling the Giant's blood over the snowy ground. As quickly as he was pulled out of the way the Giant landed his bone club to the spot where Aventis stood. Blood began gurgling in the Giant's huge lungs and pooling around its mouth - the Stormcloak soldiers weakening it with every slice and hit that bloodied their blades. Ulfric landed the final blow to the Giant's head, one swift swing of Chillrend ended the shrieks and dying roars that vibrated through the dark forest.

Ulfric pulled his battle axe from the Giant's cracked mushy skull, blood spackled on his blue armor and fine robes made of bear pelts. He looked around at his men and quickly scanned their faces as they began to put away their swords and examine themselves, realizing he suffered no casualties, then turned his focus to Aventis - who was shaking with adrenaline and breathing heavily.

"That wasn't aiming for the ankles...", he said to the boy.

"I'm sorry, My - "

"Don't be. You had courage, but know what you're doing before doing anything rash again. You just heard what happened to me when I didn't heed the advice of someone who knew better than I, did you not listen to the story?", Ulfric finished as he wiped the blood from the blade of Chillrend with the corner of his bear pelt, wetting the coarse brown fur a bright red.


	23. Twenty-Three: Talos Guide You

Chapter Twenty-Three: Talos Guide You

Pushing open the door to Mirabelle Evan's door, Katara stepped inside tentatively at first. She glanced all around the room and saw no sign of Mirabelle, though she couldn't help but notice to contents of the room - butterflies flitting around in sealed jars, bowls of glowing goo and powders, various kinds of colored and shaped roots and herbs, and a Giant's toe lined the wooden shelves along with different colored potions and mixtures. Katara admired the all the alchemic tools and ingredients, things she hasn't seen a while. Storn, being the shaman he was, always had such things in abundance in the small hut where he and Freya lived. As a young girl Freya would show Katara all the ingredients, the two of them 'ooing' and 'ahing' at their odd and wild characteristics. Storn always advised them not to get too close unless they knew the power that each ingredient held by itself or when combined with another - some could prove fatal.

"Ah, Dragonborn. Forgive me, I didn't hear you come in.", Mirabelle suddenly boomed as she emerged from a doorway on the other side of the room. "What can I do for you?"

Katara spun around. "Sorry to intrude without letting you know I was here. The alchemic materials you have here are incredible, I haven't seen such things in some time."

Mirabelle walked over to the shelf Katara was previously looking at and smiled as she picked up the jar with a butterfly enclosed, it's beautiful blue and yellow wings flapping gracefully inside the glass container. She held the jar up to the light for Katara to examine.

"The wings of this Blue Monarch can be muddled together with a little Blue Mountain Flower to create a powerful healing potion. A couple drops of this will have one back to the fight in no time.", Mirabelle said. Katara studied the butterfly as Mirabelle set it back down on the shelf and searched her other stock, finding a dried up red root she picked it up.

"Jarrin root - looks harmless, but even a small amount of this is potently deadly." She handed it to Katara, who took it and felt its rough twiggy roots. "It can be ground into a powder, shaved down to its sap, or even just bitten into...if one would be so unlucky or stupid."

Katara looked down at the Jarrin root and wondered how many people a small plant like this has killed. It was daunting and intriguing all at the same time. She placed the root back in Mirabelle's hands and grabbed a bowl of something yellow and soft.

"What kind of deadly powers or side effects does this one have?", she asked. Mirabelle almost giggled.

"That's just butter, pairs well with a bread roll.", she replied with a smile. Katara, red faced, placed the butter back down and smirked. Mirabelle set the Jarrin root back in its spot. "I wager that an alchemy lesson is not why the Dragonborn visits me today..."

Katara nodded and rested herself against the counter, she sighed. "I need to obtain the Elder Scroll from Urag, but he's...well..."

"An ass?"

Katara shrugged and sighed. "How do you put up with him?"

Mirabelle smiled warmly and stepped closer to her. "Urag is one of the smartest people in all of Tamriel, he truly is a master in his field. But he is without a doubt a curt and uninviting man. However myself and the other professors here have found ways to make interacting with him a bit easier. He's a scholar first and foremost - books, ancient texts, anything that he can read or add to his Arcaneum peak his interest a great deal..."

"So you're saying I should get him a book?"

"Not just a book, but something that he doesn't have in his collection, something that'd be so valuable it makes up for the loss of the Elder Scroll." Mirabelle leaned into Katara as if telling a secret, even though it was just the two of them in the room. "Something like...the ancient texts of the first Arch Mage of the College of Winterhold."

Katara's attention spiked. "The first Arch Mage?", she emphasized. "Where would I find such old texts?" Mirabelle had a smart look on her face. She tucked her short almond brown hair behind her small pointed elven ears.

"The first Arch Mage of the College was Shalidor. I know for a fact that Urag is a great admirer of his work. There are books and tomes written by Shalidor, but they've been scattered for centuries. I believe he has a few of Shalidor's Insights already, but I know he longs to find more. However with his age catching up to him, he can no longer hunt for them." Mirabelle walked behind the counter and searched its lower shelf for a scroll, wetting the tip of her finger and carefully unraveling it. "But I believe I know where one of Shalidor's Insights lie." She flattened the scroll on the countertop, revealing a detailed and beautiful map of Skyrim. She ran her finger along its smooth paper and tapped on a spot on the map - a heavily forested area with the symbol of a rocky ruin dotted over it. "Volkskygge, it's an ancient Nordic ruin. It's where Shalidor himself is buried. There's bound to be texts down there with him."

Katara leaned over and looked at the map, she examined the spot Mirabelle pointed to. In correlation with the College that was also mapped out, Volkskygge was less than two days travel to the southwest of here. She could be back in no time with Shalidor's Insights, she knew she could. Then that old Orc would have no choice but to hand over the Elder Scroll.

"And you're certain that this will put me in good graces with Urag?", she asked. Mirabelle looked up from the map and at her.

"I've known Urag for twenty years, I'm certain.", she replied back confidently with a seasoned look on her face. Katara nodded.

"Then I'll ride at once. Nordic ruins, eh? Can't say I've ever ventured down one of those."

"You must be careful then. Ruins often hold crypts, and where Shalidor is buried...there's bound to be others.", Mirabelle warned her with a serious look painted on her face. Katara had heard stories of the beings that roam Nordic crypts, every child heard those stories regardless of how rich or poor they grew up. Glowing blue eyes, bluer than ice, and skin as white as the bone that bore through it, crusted lips that peeled back from yellowed teeth, and often wielding the very weapons they died with - the dead themselves. Drauger, as the living took to calling them. Nobody quite knew why the bodies would reanimate in such a cannibalistic fashion, not many people lived to tell about fighting one. They were frightful creatures, donned in their ancient Nordic armors and swinging steel even in the grave.

"You should take this.", Mirabelle spoke up again. She bent down to the counter shelf again and picked up a small scroll, handing it carefully to Katara. "It's a flame scroll. Open it when you're in a tight spot and it'll turn everything around you into to ash, just be sure to be out of the way - or be prepared to feel the heat. Use it wisely.", she elderly advised. Katara held it in her hand and nodded, gently placing it in her leather armor belt that hung at her hips.

"This is very gracious of you, Mirabelle. I can't express what it means to have this help.", Katara admitted. The mage smiled.

"I believe in your cause, Dragonborn. I have seen a dragon, almost red in color, flying over the icy cliffs to the west. I've never been so frightened in all my life at the sight, and I handle poisons every day."

"I'm coming with you.", Teldryn declared as he watched Katara saddle up her horse and pay the stablekeeper an extra septim for two carrots. "It's my job to be your aid.", he added.

"He's right, you know.", Fayleen added as she walked up to pet Namiira on the snout softly. Katara nodded in agreement.

"Aye, but what of you, Fay? You'll fair alright to stay here and keep our place at the College?", she asked her as she fastened the last strap on her saddle, hoisting herself into the stirrups.

"This place is heavenly to me, you'll hear no complaints.", Fayleen replied looking up at Katara atop Valkyrie. She felt Teldryn step closer.

"Don't die, I still need your cock for a bit longer.", she whispered in Teldryn's ear as he neared and wrapped his arms around her, embracing her in a tight hug. He smiled, both slyly and lovingly, as he separated from her and climbed on top of Ashlander.

"We'll should be back in a couple nights. Send a raven along the main roads should you urgently need us. However Volskygge is extremely shrouded with forestry.", Katara told Fayleen. She clicked her tongue lightly and squeezed the reins, her steed and Teldryn's began trotting their way out of the stables, their torches in hand. She looked back at Fayleen.

"If you find yourself in trouble, head to Whitewind.", she advised. Fayleen smiled and nodded goodbye to them, but she knew it were true if it came to that. She watched their lit torches dim and disappear through the snow and down the road. She turned her cheek to the harsh winds and spun to look back at the College and it's blue burning orbs reflecting off the shiny iced stone.

They had finally reached some of Eastmarch's snowiest vallies. Less than twenty or so miles into one of these vallies lie Fort Kastav. It was set that far back from the main roads to serve its purpose in wars and battle, the enemy would not come through the main road. However going this deep into the vallies and scarce clearings was harder without the din lighting from the lampposts that occasionally dot the main roads.

"I wonder if it's still here, brother.", Galmar asked out loud to Ulfric. Ulfric looked around from his horse and pointed off into a clearing.

"Twenty paces there. I was afraid the Empire had torn it down already.", he replied as the horses trotted along to the direction he pointed. Sure enough in about twenty paces the stone statue began to take place and the figure of a heavily armored bearded man standing over a severed serpent cleared in Aventis' vision - a shrine to Talos. The caravans and soldiers came to a stop and Ulfric and Galmar climbed off their horses. They walked towards the shrine and looked up at its stature, some soldiers removed their helms. Aventis followed and climbed off his pony, standing behind everyone else and watching.

Ulfric quietly unsheathed Chillrend from his back and rooted its sharp curved blade into the snow. Galmar followed with his sword, as did the other soldiers with theirs, all who were mostly Nords. Aventis drew his steel blade from his hip and joined the others in kneeling. For a few seconds it was silent all around them, only the whispering of the wind through the branches in the pine needles. Aventis had his head picked up and eyes open, watching the others pray to Talos. Aventis was not a religious young man, he prefered things that were tangible. He watched as Ulfric, one of the most brute and fearsome men in Skyrim, kneel before a stone statue and most likely pray for its aid and good fortune in battles to come. He couldn't understand why someone like Ulfric Stormcloak needed an idol, because for so many within Windhelm, he was their idol. Perhaps, Aventis thought, Talos was just a man like Ulfric - a Nord possessing the power of the Thu'um, and weilding his power for the good of his people. For Aventis, this is how he saw the Dragonborn.

Ulfric rose from his feet and the others followed. Everyone resumed their positions on the caravans or alongside them and the Jarl walked past Aventis as he strode to his horse.

"What gods do you worship?", he asked Aventis. The teen shook his head and shrugged apologetically.

"None, my Jarl. The gods never interested me.", he replied as he watched Ulfric mount his steed once more.

"A wise man once advised never to trust a warrior who didn't hold any faith...", Galmar spoke up beside them as he hoisted himself back onto his horse as well. He looked at Ulfric, who knew the phrase he referred to - it was his father's words. The Great Bear was fiercely religious and revered Talos as his one true god.

"Aye, old friend. But he's still young. A man's faith waivers throughout his life.", Ulfric replied to Galmar before turning his attention back to Aventis, who had climbed onto his pony. "Do you know why we worship Talos?", he asked him.

Aventis recalled his education back home in Cyrodil. He searched his mind for the religious studies that was taught to him. "Because Talos is the Nordic hero-god of war. Many Nords worship him, as do many Imperials worship Zenithar - the god of work and commerce."

Ulfric flicked the reins and the caravans began moving forward away from the shrine and into the valley again. "You know your Nine Divines.", he replied with a smile. "Did you also know that it was Talos who united the nine providences of Tamriel? Oh yes, it was because of him that Tamriel came to be united under the Empire in the first place." Aventis' schooling came back his memory as he vaguely recalled learning that when he was much younger.

"Why serve a god who wanted the land ruled by the Empire?", Aventis blurted out curiously. Ulfric looked over at him as they trotted along through the snow and past the pine trees.

"I could ask the Empire why they shun the god that gave them their rule in the first place...", he replied back very bluntly. Aventis chewed on his words, knowing that the Jarl had a point. "The Empire cannot claim to represent Skyrim's best interest if they take away the very foundation of our land. Once they outlawed our beliefs, I knew it was only a matter of time before they began taking away other rights of our people."

The two of them fell silent for a moment as they led the caravans through the snowy valley, then Ulfric turned to look at Aventis once more. "Torygg was a good man, but he lost sight of what was best for Skyrim, what it meant to be a Nord. He should've never agreed to the outlaw of Talos worship...perhaps he'd still be here if not.", he solemnly finished with stone face. Through the trees and into another clearing ahead of them, Fort Kastav began to take shape.

The sun had begun to set, although Aventis could not tell. He had not stepped outside since arriving at Fort Kastav, he took advantage of the warmth that surrounded everyone as they cramped into the stone dining hall. Most soldiers sat at long wooden tables and ate the fresh bread and cold mead that Ulfric had brought, those who could not find seats leaned against the stone walls with their wooden plates and flagons in hand. Ulfric sat at a head table along with Galmar, he watched his soldiers clank their mugs together in laughter. One soldier strummed along on a lute softly at the end of one table. Battle stories were being passed around and the men munched on the juicy elk chops and sipped their ale. Aventis sat off to the side on a set of stone stairs, his mug barely touched but his plate almost empty. His almond brown shaggy hair clung to his face as he shoveled in bite after bite.

"Sing a song for the the Jarl! Come on, now!", one solider hollered over the men to the man with the lute. The other Stormcloak soldiers raised their mugs and encouraged the man further. Finally he stood up and walked to the middle of the room, Ulfric was smiling at him.

"This one is for the true High King of Skyrim!", the man exclaimed before he began playing a few chords on his lute. The room slowly died down in sound and Aventis looked up from his plate, still chewing, and watched as he began to sing.

"We drink to our youth,

to the days come and gone.

For the age of oppression

is now nearly done.

We'll drive out the Empire and restore what we own.

With our blood and our steel,

we will take back our home.

All hail to Ulfric, you are the High King!

In your great honor, we drink and we sing!

We're the children of Skyrim and we fight all our lives,

and when Sovngarde beckons,

every one of us dies.

But this land is ours, and we'll see it wiped clean

of the scourge that has sullied

our hopes and our dreams."

Almost all of the other soldiers joined in on singing the final verse, it was a song Aventis had heard hummed down in Fleabottom many times. Ulfric grinned from ear to ear when everyone began singing.

"All hail to Ulfric, you are the High King!

In your great honor we drink and we sing!

We're the children of Skyrim

and we fight all our lives.

And when Sovngarde beckons,

every one of us dies."

The soldiers all cheered and clapped, and Ulfric stood proudly and clapped as well with a laugh on his bearded face. He walked to the soldier with the lute, who bowed as his Jarl approached, and shook his hand with a firm friendly grasp. Slowly the clapping hollering died down as Ulfric motioned for it to quiet down so he could speak.

"By the Nine, I may have to take some of this spirit and cheer back with my to Windhelm when I leave here.", he said with a genuine smile as the other men laughed. "This war has taken many of our good brothers and sisters, and I understand fully that the truce has not helped your thirst for revenge. But one thing the faithless Imperials cannot take from you is the morale and spirit that you've shown me you still have. Each and every one of you lads are true Stormcloaks, through and through."

Some of the soldiers around him in the room raised a mug to his words or knocked their knuckles on the tables in agreement with his words. The Jarl continued.

"I know the Dragonborn, I have spoken with her and I consider the two of us to be close.", Ulfric recalled. Katara's face flashed through his mind and he looked down to smile at the sight of her grey eyes. "She is working every day to quell this dragon threat. For her, we must honor this truce. She is as true a Nord as any of us in this room." The men in the room nodded their heads in agreement and continued to listen to Ulfric. "But when this war has resumed, the duty of saving Skyrim will fall on our shoulders, and we feel we've developed a strategy that's capable of doing just that.", Ulfric went on as he nodded to Galmar, who stood up so the men in the dining hall could see him.

"As most of you know, giving up Falkreath was part of the negotiations to initiate this truce. However we will resume this war with Whiterun as a valuable pledged ally. We've already discussed terms with Jarl Balgruuf and have decided that we will launch an attack on Falkreath.", Galmar spoke up. Some of the men shifted in their seats and looked back and forth between him and Ulfric.

"With the city guards that Whiterun has coupled with detachment troops from Fort Greenwall, Fort Amol, and here - we will position several armies around Riverwood and in the forestry that surrounds Falkreath. The city will fall quickly.", Ulfric added as he and Galmar both walked over to one of the soldiers that held a huge scroll in his hands. Galmar grabbed it and unraveled it, revealing a very large map of Skyrim. He held it open as Ulfric pointed to all the plots and roads on the map, the soldiers leaning in closer to peer at the map. Ulfric and Galmar continued on instructing the men of their future battle strategies.

Aventis Arentino absorbed every word of it, remembering every detail.

A new day had dawned and Katara and Teldryn stood atop a small grassy mountain, the wind blowing through their hair and the manes of their stallions. They overlooked the old stone spyres, cracked steps leading down into the earth and surrounded by more stone - Volskygge. It was huge and thousands of years old by the looks of it.

"Have you ever been down in one of those old ruins?", Katara asked Teldryn. He looked down at Volskygge and sighed.

"Oh yes. I told you that my last patron was a fierce Nord warrior. Places like this were breeding grounds of worship for that man. Something about honor and the sacredness of it all. There's nothing holy about what's buried beneath those ruins..." A look of concern colored Teldryn's face.

They climbed down the mountain and tied their horses to nearby trees but not too close for fear of being spooked. Teldryn dug around in his leather bag for a green apple, still cold from the harsh weather around the College, and placed it in Ashlander's mouth. The horse gladly gnawed and Teldryn gave him a scratch behind the ears.

"And you were the one that told us not to get attached to the horses...", Katara joked as she fastened the reins of Valkyrie to the neighboring tree. Teldryn grinned slightly and shrugged off the comment. The two of them patted themselves down and made sure their weapons and armor were secure and handy. Katara's greatsword was fastened tightly to her back, the weight of it had begun to feel natural at this point. Teldryn kept his jagged dagger sheathed at his hip. They approached the stone pillars and spyres that lined the cracked stairwell, their footsteps echoing the further down they descended. They came to a large wooden door, it was dusty and covered in cobwebs. Katara reached for the handle and gently began to wiggle it. The knob clicked and the door pushed open with a creak, revealing another flight of stairs inside that led further underground.

Teldryn pulled out the unlit torch from his bag and set it to a rolling blaze with his fire magicka. Katara and him exchanged a look and ventured down into Volskygge.

The further down they explored the more open the space became. There were flickering candles resting along the stairs and concave shelves that were dug into the walls. The place smelled foul, like rotting flesh and bones and the filthy vermin that scurried into crevices when the light from the torch caught them. The air around them was still and chilly, the type of cold that creeps up your spine and sticks with you. The energy that lie within these stone walls was unmistakable - death.

"So, we're searching for a book?", Teldryn asked as he waved the torch over their footsteps, illuminating the walls around them.

"Shalidor's Insights, according to Mirabelle. Apparently Shalidor was the first Arch Mage, and the texts he left behind have to be transcribed - which Urag knows how, as well as loves, to do.", Katara replied back with a nod, watching her footing.

"Ah, so in other words you're bribing the old Orc?", Teldryn replied with a smart look.

"It's the only other way, besides stealing it from him or killing him."

"I'm not above doing either of those things.", he said back with a sly smile, Katara grinned and saw a lit torch that hung on the side of the wall. She grabbed it and extended it towards the walls, illuminating what lie within. Small tombs that were built into the walls themselves, no bigger than six feet in length, all harboring what looked like the shape of a human - mummified in tightly bound linen wraps. There were dozens of the bodies lining the halls the deeper into Volskygge they went.

"I wonder who these poor souls - ", a shriek nearly escaped Katara as she turned a corner came face to face with one of the bodies, only this body was not mummified in a catacomb. This one stood propped up inside the wall, donning a full set of ancient Nordic armor of hunter greens, shiny steels, leather, and a steel helmet with a set of antlers mounted on the sides. In his boney fingers he clasped a sharp steel sword by the pommel - it looked as if he died in a raging battle with his weapon still in hand, the way most true Nords wished to perish. Katara was so close to the body that she could smell the rotten bone and flesh from his peeled back lips. His eyes were almost just empty sockets and his rib cage was visible beneath the tattered green and brown leathers of his breastplate. She studied his face carefully, holding the torch up to it and soaking in every detail. She had never seen a dead body in such decay, yet look noble and honorable at the same time - as if he had died yesterday.

"Come on, let's press on so we can get out of here. I don't like staring at these creatures.", Teldryn said with a shudder as he began walking forward again, Katara followed.

Several paces further into the halls and they stood at the mouth of a large room. A stair well off to the side led to a balcony above them. In the center of the room were two stone pillars, small in size with symbols of animals of them. In between the both of them, a lever. They stepped closer to examine.

"I've seen something similar once before, it's a puzzle of sorts.", Teldryn said as he rounded the small stone pillars and looked at the symbols, then he glanced all around the room. "The key is somewhere around here."

"They key?", Katara asked a bit confused.

"The combination, somewhere in here are the corresponding symbols. We just match them up and pull the lever to open up that door.", Teldryn replied as he pointed ahead of them at a cast iron gate that looked to be securely shut, through the slits of the iron bars they could see through to the other room. Katara walked over to the gates and jiggled them to no success of budging it.

"I told you...it requires a combination. Who's the more seasoned adventurer here, hmm?", he said as he continued to glance around. Katara rolled her eyes and looked around the room with him. She ventured up the stairs and searched the balcony, finding two stone tablets, each with a symbol inscribed in them.

"I think I found them!", Katara hollered down to Teldryn. He looked up at her.

"Ah, good. Tell me what they are and I'll unlock this damn thing."

Katara turned back to the symbols, one a howling wolf and the other a raven mid flight. "Alright, one is a wolf..."

Tedlryn turned the left pillar so that the wolf was facing him.

"And the other is the raven."

He spun the right pillar so that the raven could be seen. "And you're certain?", he called up to her.

"You think I don't know what a bird and dog look like?", she replied back down to him smartly. He shrugged and braced his hands on the iron lever. With a quick pull he brought his end closer to him.

"Gah! Blazes...", Tedlryn cried out. An arrow was sticking out of his left bicep. He winced and braced his hand delicately on the arrow, blood beginning to leak from it through his armor. Katara rushed down the stairs with a worried look on his face.

"Tel, are you alright? What happened?", she asked him as she came closer and saw the arrow sticking out of his arm. Teldryn looked up at the hole in the ledge of the balcony that aimed right at him, no doubt where the arrow was released from.

"Wrong combination...", he said as he grimaced. Katara looked up at the hole he was seeing.

"That's impossible, I know I have it right.", she almost whispered to herself, doubt in her voice. With a mental count to three, Teldryn ripped the arrow out of arm and threw it to the ground with a painful groan. A small chunk of his bicep coming with its bloodied tip. He grimaced.

"Perhaps it's reversed.", he said as he slung his brown sac off his shoulder and fished around inside, pulling out a small red vile.

"Are you going to be alright?", Katara asked as she examined the wound on his arm, dark red blood oozing slowly from it and his blueish flesh torn around it.

He nodded weakly as he unpopped the cork to the vile gently. He lifted the small portion to his lips and took a sip from it rim. Katara watched as the blood around Teldryn's wound began to dry, the tattered skin shriveling in an effort to close the sliced gash. His injury began to heal, Teldryn wincing as if he were being lightly pinched, until the cut was nothing more than a dried scar. He jiggled his arm lightly and nodded with raised eyebrows.

"There. Now, let's get the RIGHT combination this time - I may need what little is left in this vile before we leave here.", Teldryn said dryly.

Something caught the corner of their eyes and they turned to find him - the ancient Nordic warrior standing in the doorway from. which they had came, eye sockets glowing a bright blue and his bony fingers clenched tightly around the pommel of his huge sharp sword. He stared at them with glared glowing eyes, a snarl curling up his dusty peeled lips.


	24. Twenty-Four: Only the Walls Know

Chapter Twenty-Four: Only the Walls Know

"Look alive.", Teldryn whispered to Katara as the two of them instinctively reached for their weapons to ready themselves. The Drauger growled and screamed at them, waving his steel sword in the air. Teldryn lit his palm ablaze and slung a fireball at the Drauger, staggering the lifeless man but angering him even more. With a mute cry from the Drauger, bodies that were mummified in their catacombs began to stir and reanimate. They rose to their boney feet and mindlessly marched towards Katara and Teldryn, snarling as their eyes began to glow blue and yellowed teeth bared.

Teldryn and Katara went to work slicing at the Draugers, cutting them down by the few, their tattered linen wrapped bodies falling to the floor in a plume of dust as the blue glow vanished from their dead eyes. The Nordic Drauger ran up the stairs and Katara followed after him while Teldryn went to work on the remaining Draugers, luckily they were unarmed, Teldryn making quick work of them with his sharp dagger and fireballs.

Katara and the Drauger duked it out on the balcony, steel meeting steel in loud clanks. The Drauger jabbed to the right and Katara dodged to her left. The two of them danced with swords, neither landing successful shots. Finally the Drauger raised his arms to hoist his sword in the air and Katara used his vulnerability to plunge her greatsword into the creature's chest. The Drauger stopped in his tracks, his sword still raised, and looked down the steel blade stuck in him. Slowly he looked back up at Katara, who's eyes looked on at disbelief as her greatsword rested inside the Drauger's rib cage, his bones suspending it within him like a fork in a firm cut of venison. Katara thought she almost heard a chuckle escape his crusted mouth, then he looked at her with angry blue eyes and took a deep breath from the lungs in which he did not have.

"Fus...RO DAH!", he Shouted at Katara, sending her and her greatsword over the ledge of the balcony and clear across the room. She hit the wall and fell to the cold stone ground with an "oof!" and her weapon fell to the floor with a loud clank.

Teldryn landed one swift slice on the remaining mummy and rushed towards Katara, the Drauger standing proudly atop the balcony looking down at them.

"On your feet, Kat. Come on, you'll be alright.", he urged her as he never took his eyes off the Drauger. Wearily with a groan Katara propped herself up, hands trembling she felt the warmth of her own blood leaking from busted her lower lip. A high pitched ringing buzzed in her ears, almost deafening but easing up slowly. With shaky ragged breaths and a disoriented vision she rose to her feet, minor red cuts and scrapes lining her forearms and neck. She glared her eyes and stared intently up at the Drauger, who stared back at her. Katara raised her hands and brought them together, holding them just a few inches apart in front of her chest. She focused all her energy into conjuring a huge ice spike in between her palms. With all her force and a vengeful grunt, she sent the ice spike soaring towards the Drauger and hitting him square in his chest. They watched as the frost began spreading to every rib in his chest, engulfing his bones and torn limbs with a cracking noise. The Drauger looked stunned by this, staggering back and staring down at the crystal that impaled him. With more cracking and a dying muted shriek overcame the Drauger as his bones finally broke and crumbled into a thousand shards on the balcony floor where he stood.

Katara brushed herself off, as did Teldryn. If it wasn't dirt then it was dust from the linen wrapped dead that lie in piles on the floor. She wiped her lip once more and looked at the red that wetted her fingertips. It had been a while since she's seen red. Thankfully it was nothing worse than a busted lip. She felt the metallic flavor of her own blood against her teeth and tongue.

"Are you alright?", Teldryn asked her as he dug around his bag. She nodded. He fished out the healing potion and popped off the lid, extending it to her. She waved it away.

"No. Let me wear it proudly.", Katara answered half serious half joking. She knew she lacked combat. She knew she needed to feel pain on all it's levels to defeat Alduin someday. Besides, not many can say they survived a Shout from a Drauger before. The two of them walked over to the combination pillars once more.

"Let's try this again...", Teldryn said as he turned the stone pillars again, this time with the combination reversed from the order that Katara told him. The two of them exchanged a tentative look and stepped away from the lever. Teldryn pulled it gingerly and the sound of metal rattling was heard. To their relief it wasn't the sound of another arrow being shot at them from overhead, it was the iron door raising open. The two of them lit their torches again and walked through the door, peering down into another deep and dark hallway that seemed to plummet even further underground.

"How big is this place...", Katara asked.

"Could be dozens and dozens of miles long. I've spent days in crypts like this before, making campsites and small fires in ancient burial rooms and in front of catacombs, feasting on skeevers and other vermin that dwell in the stone. We may be down here for a while.", Teldryn replied back bleakly. The two of them stared down into the darkness, knowing that there could be more traps like the one they just went through, more Drauger, and more death. They ventured further into Volskygge.

*Fort Kastav, Eastmarch*

Aventis slept better his first night at Fort Kastav than he had since coming to Skyrim from Cyrodil. His bed was small and made of hay, but it was more comfortable than the dirty streets of Windhelm where he had been resting his head the nights before. Several other soldiers shared the same room with him, all smelling ripe and snoring through the night. Still, he slept like a baby.

His brief comfortablity was disrupted when he realized all the other men were already awake and out of their beds, no doubt starting their days by carrying out their expected duties around the fort. Aventis sprung out of bed, realizing he had duties to fulfill himself, and lazily grabbed for his brown leather suit. He fastened his leather boots to his feet as he bounced around the room simultaneously adding other pieces of his attire to himself and muttering profanities under his breath. He draped the bear pelt Ulfric had given him over his shoulders and picked up his weapon belt with the sword still sheathed in his pocket. Aventis strapped it around his waist and finger combed his shaggy hair as he pushed open the doors to outside, feeling the frigid cold bite at his flesh. He looked to the stables where the horses stood tied in their stalls, flicking their tails and shaking their manes. Ulfric was nowhere to be seen...thankfully.

Ulfric Stormcloak and a few of the other men had a hunt planned early in the morning. It was Aventis' duty to ready their horses and squire for the Jarl as necessary. He was pleased with himself that he had beat them out here and not overslept. With a sigh of relief he walked to the horses and pulled out carrots from his brown bag that hung on a nail against one of the stalls. One by one he fed each of them and replenished their drinking water. The creaking of the large fort doors opened once more and Ulfric stepped out with Galmar and another man at his side, three Stormcloak soldiers following them.

"Ah, you're up. Good lad.", Ulfric said as Aventis bowed to him. Aventis had never seen the man standing beside Ulfric before. He had shoulder length blonde hair and a bit of blonde scruff in his chin. He was wearing Stormcloak armor albeit a bit fancier than the other soldiers, a scaled horned helmet in his hand at his side.

"There's something wrong with your scabbard belt there, boy...", the man said as he looked Aventis up and down. The teen patted his waist and looked down, realizing that he had fastened his weapon belt on backwards in a hurry. His face flushed red as the man and Galmar busted out in laughter.

"Aye, you should see him try to stomach a mug of ale.", Galmar added.

Ulfric stepped closer to Aventis while the two men chuckled their way to their horses.

"Ignore him. Ralof is a fine soldier and an even truer Nord than most men I know. I named him Commander of Fort Kastav when the truce commenced. It's more of an honorary title, yes, but he's kept these soldiers in place and runs a tight ship even in this time of waiting. He and I survived Helgen, you know. Along with the Dragonborn."

"Why was the Dragonborn heading for the chopping block?", Aventis asked. He genuinely was unsure as to what brought her to Helgen that day, he never got around to asking his father and his father never got around to telling him.

"Not many know but Katara is half Imperial by blood, much like yourself. Cyrodil law states that - "

"Any man or woman who is a direct descendant of an Imperial bloodline must serve the Empire if called upon.", Aventis finished his sentence the moment Ulfric's words dawned on him and he pieced it together. Ulfric raised his brow.

"Aye. She didn't want to serve the Empire, she didn't even want to serve a side in this war.", he said.

"But she serves you, doesn't she?", Aventis pried tentatively. The noment the words left his mouth he felt as if he shouldn't have asked. A squire to a highborn Jarl should not be pressing such matters, nor should it be of any concern to them. And if Aventis were just the common stablehand that he portrayed in front of a hundred or more Stormcloak soldiers, then he was certain that such conversation wouldn't be of any interest to him. But he was not, he was the son of Imperial Legion Commander Pavo Arentino - and the war, his honor, and his future rested on Ulfric's every word.

Ulfric returned Aventis' baited eyes and answered honestly. "No, she does not. I haven't called upon her to serve me in the war, she is my friend. She is a Nord legend fulfilling a prophecy set forth by Talos and the other gods...whether you believe in that or not. The dragons have taken to the skies again."

Aventis nodded at the Jarl's words and Ulfric spoke up again. "How did you manage to dodge the Imperial draft?", he asked speculativley.

"Being a common beggar has its perks I suppose.", he lied.

"The hunting party is ready, my Jarl.", Ralof boomed from behind them as he climbed atop his steed.

The seven of them made their way through the woods that surrounded Fort Kastav. The three Stormcloak soldiers stayed mounted on their horses as Ulfric, Galmar, Ralof, and Aventis hunted in front of or alongside them. Each of the men were carrying a bow with a holster of arrows strapped at their backs, Aventis carrying Ulfric's. The intended game was anything big enough for the fort to survive a portion of winter on - elk, deer, boar, and wild horse in the odd occasion. It was only right that Ulfric accompany Commander Ralof on the hunt.

They pressed on and heard the crunching of the snow and dead leaves beneath their boots. They treaded lightly so that they could detect any game before it detected them. Aside from their footsteps everything was quiet and serene. It was then that they spotted it in the distance, a huge elk, the fattest they've seen all season. The men back at the fort could last for months off the creature that was knelt down and gnawing as patches of green grass beneath the snowy forest floor.

Ulfric motioned for Aventis to pass him the bow. Delicately he did as instructed and Ulfric loaded an arrow into the quiver, as did Galmar and Ralof. Ulfric stepped forward and eyed the elk, he raised his bow and aimed quietly for it. His hunting party behind him stood still in a hush. Ulfric closed one eye and focused his aim.

A new sound could be heard from them within the woods, one that not many of them have heard before. It was coming from just beyond the elk and Ulfric could catch a glimpse of a small flicker of light, like a dimly lit candle burning through the woods. He lowered his bow quietly and stared into the woods, as did the other men. The elk perked up and clicked its ears when the sound of heavy breathing could be heard, a low bellowing slow breathing. Ulfric could almost feel the beast's lungs from here, it vibrated in the trees around them. When he saw the pair of yellow eyes that accompanied the low burning ball of fire, he recognized it in an instant.

Before he could speak, before any of them could even think, the burning glow that rolled in the dragon's throat shot forward in a stream of fire, it's massive sharp white teeth glimmering when the flame's light caught it. In a second Ulfric and his men were pushed to the ground by the sheer force of the dragon's hot breath, and the elk was burnt in the very spot it stood. The dragon lurched forward from its hunting spot, cracking limbs and smaller trees as it did so and brushing them off its wings as if it were nothing. Most of the men were in shock as they stared from the snowy floor at the dragon devouring the fat bloodied and burnt elk, it's fresh kill. Crunching of the animal's bones beneath the dragon's jaws, red blood dripping from his snarled lips and claws as the elk's body steamed on the ground in front of it. The dragon finished its meal and lifted its head to the sky, Ulfric could audibly hear the beast sniff the air as his nostrils flared and its long tongue licked the excess blood and meat from its lips. It shuffled towards their direction and its yellow piercing eyes landed on Ulfric.

Aventis lay on the ground, stunned and shaking as the dragon and Ulfric looked to each other. Slowly Ulfric stood up, Galmar and Ralof and the other men followed, as did Aventis. The men all raised their bows once more and pointed them at the dragon, Aventis reached for his sword and drew it out of its sheath with a slow "shink". The dragon stared at the men and then raised its head again, this time its massive neck and body coming with it as it extending its greenish black wings and pumped itself off the forest floor. Snow kicked up underneath it as it took flight into the skies. All was silent again for a moment, the bloodied charred spot still steaming where the elk was slain. Ulfric turned to his men and they lowered their bows and swords.

"We should've killed it.", Galmar said as his eyes darted around the skies above them.

"We should not provoke it.", Ulfric replied back sternly, he turned to Aventis. "Did you soil your trousers, lad?"

Aventis stood there with his sword still in hand, noticeably trembling as his bottom lip quivered. Ulfric shook his head at the boy and answered his stunned silence. "You have to get used to fear, Aventis, if you ever want to become a solider."

"But that - that was a d- dragon, not a man!", Aventis blurted out through a shaky voice. Ulfric turned to look at him.

"We're at war with the dragons as well, you'd do well to remember that.", he plainly said. He turned back to his men. "I believe different hunting grounds are an order, wouldn't you agree?", he asked. Galmar and Ralof nodded as did the soldiers on their horses.

Then came the familiar flapping again - one that Ulfric and Ralof remembered all too well from that day at Helgen, one that Galmar knew from the day he saw the Dragonborn fly off at Yngvild Barrow, and one that Aventis shuddered at from the feasting that he had just witnessed. The flapping got louder and could be felt all around them, slowly they looked up and saw the dragon swooping down onto them. The men readied their weapons again and huddled closer together. With a shriek the dragon flew down and plucked one of the Stormcloak soldiers off his horse. Its talons scratched the horse in the process, sending it whinning and bolting into the woods. The screams from the soldier being clenched in its claws became high pitched the more the dragon squeezed, eventually letting go and sending the poor man plummeting into the tree tops, the screams coming to an end. The beast circled around again.

"Archers!", Ulfric cried as the men obeyed and locked their arrows into their bows and aimed for the flying creature. They shot arrows into the dragon, piercing holes in its wings. Ulfric handed his bow over to Aventis.

"Don't miss.", he said to the boy with sweat beading his brow. With the dragon circling them overhead, Aventis was conflicted in that moment if he wanted Ulfric Stormcloak dead or alive. Even more so as he watched the Jarl of Windhelm walk further into the clearing and locked eyes with the dragon, the beast honing in on him and diving from the sky. Aventis lifted Ulfric's bow and joined the other men in slinging arrows into the dragon. He managed to land a couple shots through its greenish wings, bloodied thin holes left as a result.

The dragon shrieked but it didn't take its eyes off Ulfric, who walked closer and unsheathed Chillrend from the scabbard belt as his back. The dragon angrily spun around stomped its hide legs, it's tail smashing down into the spot where Ulfric stood - he jumped out of the way and landed a swift slice to the end of its tail, severing the first two digits of its tail bone. Blood came spurting out like a water from a faucet from the beast's tail as it roared in agony and jerked around, knocking Ulfric to the ground with a hard "oof!"

He found his footing once again but could not grasp for Chillrend that lay on the floor as the dragon stomped around and reared its head, diving its head towards Ulfric with its massive jaws open wide. Ulfric felt the pressure of the dragon miss as he dove backwards and the dragon bury its snout into the ground. Ulfric grabbed the creature's snout and held it down, anger roars emitting from it as Ulfric pushed it down into ground. He could feel the hot snorts from his nostrils up against his chest, it's angry grunts, and most noticeably it's yellow eyes wide and flared with fury, meeting Ulfric's gaze. Ulfric's feet were being pushed further back into the snowy ground from the force of the dragon trying to open its jaws to get to him. An arrow shot from Aventis found itself lodged into the left eye of the dragon. It shrieked and backed away, raising its head and rearing away from Ulfric. The Jarl reached for Chillrend and lurched to his right to slice the dragon's wing, the gash the size of a full grown man. More screams echoed through the forest as the dragon spun its giant head around, Ulfric seized the moment to climb atop its massive head. The dragon stomped around in a mad fit and shook its head violently, Ulfric clenching to its back scales. The dragon no longer minded where it stomped and soon enough it trampled over to the men. Galmar, Ralof, and Aventis jumped out of the way while the other two soldiers were thrown from their horses to the ground. They watched as Ulfric bucked atop the snarling dragon, fumes and flames and spit pouring from its angry mouth and nostrils.

With one swift motion, and what seemed like the strength of a hundred true Nords, Ulfric placed Chillrend at the throat of the reared up dragon as it desperately tried to take flight into the snowy air in a last attempt to live. Ulfric pulled his weapon back against the dragon's throat, as if he were rowing a boat with one arm. When he felt his icy blade sink into the beast's scaled flesh, he extended his arm out and jerked Chillrend swiftly, feeling the skin slice in its trail. Immediately he could feel the warmth of the dragon's throat and blood steaming the frozen tip of Chillrend. Slowly one could see the dragon's gash begin to freeze over in the tracks of Ulfric's slice, it's stomping grew more weary as its breathing and shrieks came to nothing to long winded heavy wheezing. Eventually it's massive neck went limp and collapsed to the ground, Ulfric falling into the snow with it.

For a moment he was fatigued, and breathing heavily Ulfric rose to his feet. He looked behind him and saw the huge body of the lifeless dragon laying haphazardly on the ground, snow already beginning to accumulate. All around them lay broken trees and smears, sometimes pools, of blood. Ulfric could hear his heart beat in his ears and he stood up and looked himself over - minor cuts and scrapes. He looked down and picked up Chillrend, frozen droplets of blood beginning to solidify against its glowing icey blade. He wearily looked up and found a pair of five eyes staring back at him, silent as their mouths hung agape. Even Galmar, a fierce man, trembling.

"By Talos...Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, true High King of Skyrim, and Dragonslayer.", he said as he fell to his knees and knelt before Ulfric. Ralof followed and even the Stormcloak soldiers had climbed off their horses and bowed to him. Aventis stared at Ulfric for a moment, his breathing labored from shock and his thoughts a jumbled mess. He was not a religious young man, not a superstitious teen, but with his own two eyes he saw Ulfric Stormcloak, the traitor of Skyrim, standing over the limp body of a dragon and only suffer minor cuts.

"Fourteen years of age, pale yellow skin, high cheekbones, high brow and a sharp nose. White hair that hang in a short cut beneath high peaked elven ears. Slim in size and tall in stature. Highly skilled mage and humble for a Thalmer youngling."

This was how the book Fayleen held in her hand described her father during his final year of attendance at the College of Winterhold. She hung her legs over the side of one of the stairwells in the Hall of Attainment and thumbed through 'Elisinorith, Macremir', the book Mirabelle had given to her days ago. The book was filled of his accomplishments and any mentions of him and his work at the College. She remembered her father well, but differently from the description written in front of her. Fayleen recalled his hair was long and fallen to his ears. Age had begun to catch up to him and he filled out very slightly his once thin physique. His hands were aged, they had years of magicka experience wrapped around them. At least that's how Fayleen remembered him before she ran away so many years ago. His demeanor was patient and eager to learn, even as he grew older and started a family. Fayleen eyed a small entry that was made nearly thirty five years ago:

"15th of Fredas, Mid Year -

I took the master class of destruction to Saarthal again - extraordinary crypts and catacombs. I just hope we're not inadvertently dangering the site with our excavation. Something miraculous happened today - my studious apprentice, Macremir, happened upon some sort of amulet while taking rock samples earlier. It has a thin leather length to it and at the end hangs a pendant that's emerald green in color and spherical in shape. Within the gem are what appears to be carved serpents, eight of them, all tangled together. Some of the serpents have wings and sharp teeth. It's very peculiar, like nothing I've ever seen before. It was not attached to any body or near any tomb, so I do not believe that it holds any significance to Saarthal itself. We will bring it back to the College and study it, there's bound to be a book on it somewhere. In the meantime Macremir and myself will continue to coach the master destruction classes, most students show promise - Onmund, Breylyn, Ancano, Inca.

\- S. Aren"

Seeing her father's name mentioned by Savos Aren himself warmed Fayleen's heart and brought a smile to her plump lips. She noticed there was another journal entry a few paragraphs below, dated for a couple weeks later.

"4th of Morndas, Sun's Height -

Interesting news indeed! I handed the amulet found in Saarthal to Urag in hopes that he could scrounge up some information on it - the Orc did not disappoint! Turns out the amulet could have belonged to a Dragon Priest. Being a Dunmer I'm afraid that I don't know much about Nordic legends, however Urag has informed me, through his studies, that Dragon Priests were some of the very first and most powerful of the mortals to rebel and overthrow their dragon overlords during the Dragon Era. As a reward for their valor, the gods granted them with the power of the dragons themselves, even said to have ascended them into a new plane of consciousness and Oblivion. There were eight Priests, which would explain both the number and dragon-like serpents carved into the emerald gem. Both of us doubt that it's any use to us now that the Dragon Priests have been long gone for centuries, however I'm not one to put a price on ancient artifacts so I will allow for Macremir to keep it since he is the one who found it. It can be a keepsake, but for now I'll stow it in my Quarters until I remember to give it to him.

-S. Aren"

Fayleen peered at the words known the page closer, registering them. She never recalled her father having an amulet that resembled anything like the one Savos Aren explained. He never even mentioned it to her memory. If it was a gift from Aren himself then she knew her father would've worn it proudly or revered it, yet she could not find any instance growing up in which her father had done either. Was it possible that the amulet was never geven to her father? The thought blared in her mind like alarms as she snapped the book closed. She glanced around the Hall of Attainment, the students had retired to their beds for the night and darkness from the night sky could be seen through the windows. The only light that could be seen were the flickering candles along the stairwell where she sat and the large low burning blue fire keeping them warm. She peered down the hall and saw the door open and candles still flickering in her bedroom. Fayleen hopped off the stairwell and made her way to her room, she placed her father's book on the table and looked at the bed - the thoughts and questions regarding the amulet still nagging her brain.

She blew out the candles, turned to close the door behind her, and headed in the night to the Arch Mage Quarters.

Fayleen knew she couldn't just walk into the Arch Mages Quarters, no doubt it'd be locked. The voice of logic and reason pinged in the back of her mind about how bad of an idea it was to break into the Quarters already, but the truth was calling her louder. She had to know.

She stood looking up at the large doors that donned the Mandela-like burning sigil on it, one of the most pronounced doors here at the College. She had never been behind it but had seen a few students and professors come and go. She placed her hand on door and lightly pushed, to her surprise it budged and she was able to silently push it open even more and step through and close it behind her. In the middle of the room was a large glowing orb, similar to the very sigil on the doors - hues of greens, blues, and purples swirled around inside and burned brightly. Fayleen stepped closer to it, it had no warmth like the blue fires that burned around the College, but it withheld an arcane energy that echoed and lowly hummed around it. It was magnificent looking, but it wasn't what she was here for.

She looked around and found two doors, one of opposite sides of the walls from each other. The door to her left had a small tablet reading "Arcaneum" over it, the one - "Arch Mage's Quarters". She walked over to the door on her right and lightly tested the knob, a good sneak knows it doesn't hurt to try it first. No luck, in fact it was locked pretty damn well. Fayleen plucked out a lockpick from her leather vest, she glanced around the room and began quietly poking and prodding the lock. Snap! She fished around for another lockpick and went to work on it again. Snap! Over and over the same result until Fayleen had broken at least a dozen lockpicks, down to her last one. She held it up to the light and stared at it. She didn't like to travel without lockpicks, they've been her trusty tools in sticky situations.

She could always buy more lockpicks, but she could not not buy a new Dragon Priest amulet, an amulet that belonged to her father and that she was certain was through this door. With a deep breath and a sturdy hand, she tried to pick the lock once more - this time a success.

With her hood covering her head and brown hunter's cloak shrouding her shoulders, she tentatively tip toed her way up the circling staircase until she saw light from the room reflecting off the wall at the top. Fayleen inched closer to the threshold, she peeked around the corner, not seeing a soul in there. Ancano must be making his nightly rounds, which meant she had to work quickly.

She creeped in and began pulling out the drawers of every nightstand, table, and dresser there was - searching each of them thoroughly and making sure not to leave an obvious mess in her wake. She glanced all around the room - which was marvelous in itself. There was an entire garden area in the center of the Quarters. It had every root, flower, plant, and fruit any alchemist could ever want, just ready for the plucking should one so wish. There were even butterflies, red and blue and orange, that flew over the garden, gracefully landing on the plants from time to time. Suspended in the air above the gardens were three magelight orbs, hovering brightly and mimicking the sun. Along the walls of the room were various desks, some containing soul gems, enchanting staffs, scrolls, books, and gems on them. There was a large bed, one of the biggest Fayleen has ever seen, that was neatly made. Hanging over the bed on a plaque was a staff - it's rod was a shiny copper gold and the head was a beautiful red carved rose. In between the petals of the rose sat a blue soul gem. Fayleen admired it then turned to look around the room more, when she did so she saw a stone brick lodged in the wall along with the others, although this one was different looking. It was discolored and raised slightly from the wall. It could be seen only if standing where the bed was.

She walked up to it and ran her hand over it, feeling the rough rock of the brick and wall. She jiggled it slightly and to her surprise it moved, she wriggled it free from the wall and peered in, it was a man-made hole in hidden beneath. She stuck her hand in the dark hole and fished around, her fingers finding several pieces of paper. She grabbed something hard and round, it was wrapped in a folded piece of paper. Fayleen plucked it out of the hole and opened it.

There it was. She could hardly believe it. The amulet, as described in the book of her father, was wrapped inside the paper. Sure enough it was an emerald green with the serpents chained inside their carvings. It was beautiful. She opened the letter that it was wrapped in:

"Macremir Elsinorith,

Do you recall our conversation over lunch the other day, when I told you what I learned of that emerald amulet you uncovered in Saarthal? Your face lit up. Seeing the passion and eagerness that students like you possess is what keeps me at this College every day, molding minds for generations to come. I want you to have this amulet - you were the one who discovered it, you are the one who should have it. Whether you wear it, sell it, or stow it away somewhere, I want you to look back and remember your time here at the College of Winterhold. Remember the things you've learned, untapping the skills and potential that you never knew you held within you, and remember me. You have been the most studious and skilled apprentice mage I've ever had the honor of mentoring, and I know you'll go far in life.

-Your friend and teacher,

Savos Aren"

Tears welled up in Fayleen's eyes and began streaming down her face. She wiped them away with her arm and told herself she was weak for crying. Someone else saw her father the way she saw him, and that someone happened to be Savos Aren himself. She squeezed the amulet in her hand, feeling the raised carved serpents on its round emerald surface. She plucked the amulet and the note into her pocket and felt another document hidden away in the secret hole in the wall. It's handwriting was different, not that of Savos Aren:

"It wasn't easy. The old Dunmer is a light sleeper and the ring of keys he had given to me are loud and clanky. But it is done. Ah, yes it's done. I feel as if a weight has been unburdened from my chest. No more being "second to the best". No more stupid stories endured while I plastered a painful smile on my face. Just a few drops of carefully squeezed Jarrin root right down the old coot's snoring gullet and it was done - untraceable to me. Oh, I know it's risky to even be writing this, but I had to tell someone. Obviously that isn't an option, so my secrets will stay buried within this secret stow. Only the walls will know what I have done. The era of a new Arch Mage has dawned.

-A. T."

Fayleen almost dropped to the floor, she leaned against the wall, her breaths a big ragged from shock. Savos Aren was murdered, and 'A.T.' can only be one person...

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him standing there, a poised but angered look in his glared eyes. He noticed the documents in one hand, and the false brick in her other.

"What do you think you're doing?", Ancano Telmithevary asked through clenched teeth.


	25. Twenty-Five: Draugers, Death, and Deceit

Chapter Twenty-Five: Draugers, Death, and Deception

Notes: This is a meaty chapter and at times you'll find that it may bounce around from one point to another, I apologize in advance if it causes any confusion. I've had a vision for a month about where I am taking the story and I believe in the next chapter or two that vision will come to fruition, hopefully ending up as epic as I anticipate! Thank you for reading!

She had found herself in this place before, well not this place specifically but ones similar. The cold damp ground, the still and quiet air, and the iron bars.

Fayleen sat in the corner of her cell, a thin tattered blanket pulled over her shoulders. She could see her breath forming in clouds of steam and goosebumps spiked along her arms and down her neck. She had spent a night in jail a number of times in life. She found out early on that becoming a good thief takes getting caught in the learning process. Fayleen knew she was reckless and emotionally driven when searching for the amulet. Gods, she can't believed it was actually there - and the confession from Ancano...Savos Aren...

But The Midden was different than the other jails she's been sent to. Because of the College's location atop a massive rock in the Ghost Sea, the only place to build the jail was underground - under the College itself. It was already freezing temperatures most days in Winterhold, but here, below the ground was subzero every waking moment. It was the smallest jail Fayleen's ever been to, considering the College particularly didn't lock people up all the time. There were no more than three cells and she was one of them, the the closed quarters making the cold stick to every surface of the small room.

She sat there and pondered how could she have been so foolish. Katara and Teldryn would no doubt be upset with her, whenever it was that they would return. Of course Ancano confiscated the amulet, and of course he hid the letters containing his murderous confessions before the guards could come and sieze her.

A rattling from the door could be heard and a small amount of light began growing from the doorway. The figure of Mirabelle wearing a fur lined hood and carrying a lantern began to take shape as she approached. Fayleen leaped up from the ground and went for the bars, her hands clasping around the freezing iron.

"Fayleen, I came as soon as I heard. What happened? What have you done?", Mirabelle asked glancing Fayleen over as she set her lantern on the ground in front of the cell.

"What has Ancano told you?", Fayleen asked, her bottom lip quivering slightly from the cold.

"He told us that you tried to steal from him, last night. That you broke into his Quarters. Is there any truth to it?", Mirabelle replied back as she looked deeply into Fayleen's eyes awaiting an honest answer.

Fayleen looked down for a moment then back at the door to the outside. "It's true.", she said in a whisper. "But there's more to it than that. That book you gave me, about my father? There were some journal entries in there written by Savos Aren himself. Apparently my father stumbled upon an amulet belonging to a Dragon Priest, Savos wanted him to have it - and it's there, Mirabelle. It's in the Arch Mage's Quarters, stowed away in the wall. I don't know why it was never given to my father but it's there...", Fayleen finished with wide pleading eyes. Mirabelle looked at her with her mouth hung slightly agape and brow a bit furrowed, studying Fayleen's face.

"I remember when Macremir found that amulet, I was in the class that Savos had taken to Saarthal. You're saying it's in the Arch Mage Quarters...in the wall...?"

"Yes! I felt it in the palm of my hand, the weight of the emerald stone - green as ever, green as my eyes. It's all in the book you gave me about my father, it's on the table in my bedroom...if Ancano hasn't already cleared it.", Fayleen replied, then she looked up at Mirabelle. "You believe me, right?"

Mirabelle looked at her for a long moment, her tan face appearing darker under her shrouded hood as the lantern's light danced across it. She nodded her head slightly. "I do, Fayleen. But I don't know if I can break you free for it. Technically you DID steal it, as it was never yours to take..."

"That's not the only reason I'm down here...", Fayleen replied bleakly. Mirabelle's attention spiked again as she scanned the young Breton's serious face. "In the stowaway were more letters...one written by Ancano himself.", she looked around again and leaned into the bars closer to Mirabelle. "He murdered Savos Aren, Mirabelle. Jarrin root in his sleep, it's all there in the confession."

Mirabelle stepped back for a moment and she felt her breath catch in her lungs. "The things you're saying...they're punishable by banishment...or death..."

Fayleen clasped her cold hands over Mirabelle's through the iron bars, she pleaded into her eyes, a desperate plea.

"Which is precisely why I would never risk my life or yours by lying about it.", she replied as serious as she's ever been. "You knew Savos Aren almost as well as my father did, you know he was a good man. He did not have enemies. The letter looked to be dated around ten years ago. If I could just get my hands on it and expose that treacherous snake..."

"Ten years ago was roughly around the time Savos Aren was found dead in his sleep.", Mirabelle interrupted. It seemed to dawn on her at that moment. She nodded slowly and inched closer to the cell again. "Alright, I believe you. I truly do, Fayleen. But what would you have us do about it? He's the Arch Mage - that title holds an enormous amount of weight in Skyrim...in Tamriel!"

Fayleen was silent for a moment, her mind in thought, but her eyes never left Mirabelle's. "Avenge Savos Aren...cast out Ancano. Rally the other professors and students and overthrow him, stick him in this cell instead. Your name also carries weight around this College, the others will listen to you."

"Not without proof they won't.", Mirabelle replied, looking at Fayleen and pondering things over.

"That place is shut tight, lost all my lockpicks on that damn knob. It will take someone experienced, I mean no offense. It's too risky to have you locked up down in The Midden as well. You're not planning on sneaking in there yourself, are you?", Fayleen asked.

"No, I'm not going to sneak into his Quarters.", Mirabelle said as she reached into her fur lined pockets, pulling out a jinggling ring of iron keys. "But you are, again."

Fayleen didn't know how she did it, but next thing she knew she was sitting in Mirabelle's bedroom. The seasoned alchemist plucked a pure white vile out of her pocket back in The Midden and handed it to Fayleen through the bars. She told her to drink it all. It tasted putrid and made her mouth dry, but in seconds she vanished and Mirabelle allowed for her to escape The Midden unseen by anyone. Fayleen had heard of invisibility potions before, though she was never brave enough to try them out for herself. If new to using the potion then it could put a good thief in a bigger mess than they anticipated - suddenly reappearing right in front the eyes of the person they were stealing from. Yet this potion last a few good minutes while Fayleen quietly and briskly followed Mirabelle through the College, weaving past students who almost inadvertently bumped right into her.

"You should be fine here. Ancano never goes down in The Midden, he just expects the guards to patrol. The College uses the guards from the neighboring town of Winterhold so there are never more than a couple here at a time, he won't even come looking for you. Just DON'T leave this room unless I've given you some invisibility potion to walk around with, and even then it's a risk.", Mirabelle urged as she set the lantern on the nightstand beside the bed and tossed Fayleen a blanket to warm herself.

"I'm assuming that's how you want me to do it, with invisibility potion?", Fayleen asked in reference to what Mirabelle told her before she freed her from the cell.

"Yes, and I believe I have some lockpicks around here as well, and some lockpicking potions..."

Fayleen scrunched her face. "Should I be taking so many potions at once?"

Mirabelle looked at her and shrugged apologetically. "We don't have much of a choice, my dear." Fayleen wearily nodded in agreement, eagerness to get revenge at Ancano welling up in her again.

"We'll do it tonight then. There can't be any wasted moments. I'll bring the letter back to you.", Fayleen declared as she rose to her feet from the bed.

"Fayleen, if you get caught this time..."

"I won't.", Fayleen replied back surely. "When I return with the letter then we must show Tolfdir and the other professors. It'll be the only way to cast out Ancano."

Mirabelle nodded in agreement. "You can't do anything until tonight, it's too risky. Stay here and warm up for now. I'm going to go mix some fresh potions for you."

"I'd like to help, if that'd be alright, of course. I won't be able to sit still until dusk comes. Besides, it's been a while since I practiced a bit of alchemy.", Fayleen asked gently. A genuine, motherly smile crossed Mirabelle's lips.

*Fort Kastav, Eastmarch*

News had spread throughout Fort Kastav of Ulfric Stormcloak slaying the dragon during yesterday's hunt in the woods. All through the night Aventis could hear soldiers whispering amongst themselves in their beds about it, one of the soldiers who accompanied them on the hunt reliving every detail of what he saw as the other soldiers huddled around him and waited on his every word. Aventis listened while he lay in his bed and face the wall, still unsure what to make of the whole thing himself. He knew the dragons had to be real if it warranted a truce between two sworn enemies like the Empire and the Stormcloaks, he knew what he saw was real. The image of the beast as it tore into the body of the fat elk was one that Aventis would never be able to forget, it's teeth thrashing as the sounds of bones and limbs crushed like an apple under its jaws.

But now the night had passed and the comfortable warmth of the bed he had grown fond of was miles away as Aventis trotted his pony in the frigid snow behind Ulfric Stormcloak and the caravans he was leading back to Windhelm. They departed Fort Kastav at dawn, Ulfric felt if they left early enough then they could arrive in the city by nightfall. The brute Jarl had not said much since the dragon slaying yesterday afternoon. Aventis had watched soldiers mosey up to him and ask him about it, to which he replied with an accurate story of the events that unfolded. The soldiers were struck with amazement, but Ulfric did not embellish his story in the slightest. Aventis had seen men stretch the truth for doing less heroic acts. But Ulfric did not brag, he did not boast. Even when the hunting party tried to regain their thoughts from yesterday, Ulfric instructed them to go and find the man that was killed by the dragon, and give him a proper burial in the woods. The nobility and humbleness of the Nord Jarl was a trait Aventis couldn't help but find admirable.

"What would you say to hosting a banquet when we return to Windhelm, my Jarl?", Galmar suggested while riding alongside Ulfric. "I could go for a fresh chop of venison."

Ulfric smiled slightly. "A banquet, aye? I think that's doable. What say you, Aventis?"

Aventis perked his attention towards the Nord and Galmar furrowed his brow. "A squire doesn't dine with us.", he said curtly.

"You seem to be under the impression that you're a highborn meant for the Jarl's banquet table...if I allow you a head seat as my second in command then why can't a loyal common squire boy earn the same honor?", Ulfric replied back with a twinge of venom in his voice. Galmar lightly nodded to his Jarl and looked away but kept a face stern as stone. Aventis was almost afraid to answer Ulfric, who was still awaiting a reply.

"It sounds wonderful, my Jarl.", he answered, and it truly did. "But the Blue Palace is no place for a common stable hand.", he added. Truthfully he wanted to dine with Ulfric and the high ranking citizens of Windhelm at the long banquet table, to bask in their importance if even for a night. But he was eager to return to his father, which was the top priority upon returning.

"Nonsense. But I will not beg you if you so wish to refrain from joining.", Ulfric replied as he tightened the reigns of his stallion and led his caravans on. "Let's pick up the pace, men. Home is beckoning."

*Volskygge*

They did not know if it were day or if it were night. They did not know what the hour was. Minutes faded into hours. All they knew was the dark, the musty, the dead.

Katara and Teldryn had been down in Volskygge for almost two days now. The sun didn't shine down here, nor did moonlight flicker. There were no windows and no other doors. The only thing they had were the stone walls, the catacombs lined with bodies, and each other.

Teldryn built another small fire, just as he did last night, at least they thought it was night. They built them when needed, and when they needed to roast food. Food was another problem - the only thing to eat on were the skeevers that scurried in dusty corners. They were no more than the size of a cat but they were hideous, often rabid they would rear up on their back paws and hiss with their white foamed teeth barred. Katara shuddered at the sound of Teldryn plunging his dagger into the heart of a screaming skeevers as she sat by the fire, her arms folded across her chest for added warmth.

"What's the matter?", he asked as he returned to the fire with the limp skeever in hand and went to work on twisting it, skinning it. Katara made a disgusted face at the vermin.

"Do you even have to ask?", she replied back quickly. Teldryn paused skinning the skeever and looked up at her.

"What? The skeever?"

"Everything."

There was silent moment that fell between them, both looking into the flames of the crackling fire, both donning weary and irritated faces. Teldryn sighed and went back to work finishing the skeever.

"May I remind you that coming down here was your idea, something you agreed to take upon yourself.", he lowly reminded her. She fired him a glance.

"And may I remind you that I didn't ask you to follow me down here?", she shot back. Teldryn quickly stood to his feet.

"It's my job, Katara!", he hollered at her, the limp skeever flopping around in his tightly clasped hand.

"We're a bit beyond 'jobs' now, aren't we?", Katara yelled back as she too rose to her feet. Their voices carried and echoed off the stone walls. It made Katara feel trapped, like the emptiness around them grew. "Jobs are no longer the reason we're here, our paths have crossed because of this prophecy, everything happening is because of this prophecy.", she lowered her voice a bit. "Parthurnaax once told me that. Our fates are intertwined, you're my best friend, Teldryn. That's why you followed me down here." Teldryn sighed again and looked down, knowing she was right. "You and I both know I haven't paid your lazy ass in a few months.", she finished with a smile at the end, he smirked too.

"Yes, yes. You're right, the prophecy and whatnot. But what other can be done about this predicament?", Teldryn replied back like the matter-of-factly Mer he was. He pointed to the walls around them. They were situated in a small room that was located...somewhere, within Volskygge. They had no map, but they had followed the tunnels and catacombed walls for almost two days, sleeping in odd rooms that held banquet tables - goblets and cutlery still placed atop. Some rooms were smaller, only housing a dozen or two dozen burial urns. The candles in this godforsaken tomb never burnt out, although Katara nor Teldryn had tried blowing any out - it was the only light that was provided to them. It was as if they began flickering a thousand years ago, and would still be flickering a thousand more to come, blazing like the force of an ancient power were behind it, the same power that reanimate the dead from their resting places perhaps.

The dead were only getting worse, and tiresome. Every room they moved to, every corridor they turned they saw the glowing blue eyes of a Drauger, sometimes a few of them - all shrieking their muted cries and wielding old axes and swords. They were the rulers of these tombs, the protector of the dead. Katara and Teldryn were in their sanctuary. The two of them have had to kill several dozen Draugers each upon arriving yesterday. Katara admitted to herself that if she weren't so miserable she'd be grateful that the Drauger improved her combat and magicka, but she was in no mood to look on the bright side of things. The dust and debris covered their bodies, especially their faces and forearms. It wasn't just dust from the rocks and tombs, but debris from the Drauger as their tattered linen clothed bodied disinigrated onto the crypt floor in a plume of dust and dirt. Katara could feel the dried blood still crusted on her bottom lip from being Shouted by the Drauger not long ago. Their hair felt thick with dust and debris, like hay, and it occasionally stuck to their faces when the air was still and muggy.

"All of your other suggestions included killing Urag or stealing the Elder Scroll from him.", Katara replied back to him with a shake of her head.

"You're the Dragonborn, Katara.", he answered back without missing a beat. Katara's eyes met his and she fell silent again for a moment, pride welling up in her. She was the Dragonborn, the intended Savior of Skyrim. And she was diving through a massive crypt in search of a book to bribe a stubborn old Orc. "I am a professional killer, and Fayleen is a master thief. You wouldn't even have to get your hands dirty, one of us could get that Elder Scroll, one way or another.", he added seriously. Katara chewed on his words and thought them over for a moment.

"We will die down here if we don't leave.", she replied solemnly as she glanced around at the dark stoke floor. What drinking water they had brought with them was almost depleted, and they had yet to stumble upon another source of water in the meantime. "So let's head for the door we came from and never look back."

Teldryn smiled and nodded his head, putting out the fire with the ashes of some poor soul that he dumped out from a nearby burial urn. They knew if they briskly walked then they could reach the entrance they came within a few hours. Down the crypts further into the tunnels ahead of them the quiet sound of muted shrieks could be heard, blue glowing eyes taking shape in the dark as they approached closer, the heavy shuffling of their boney feet against the stone floor. Katara and Teldryn looked back then walked even faster, the noise seeming grow as now their snarls could be heard.

So they ran. For hours, they ran. The shrieks and snarls and shuffles following them until they reached the large iron carved door that they once came from. Teldryn went to go open it to no luck, he and Katara exchanged a worried look as they heard the shuffling and snarling growing louder from the dark hallway they had just run from.

"Teldryn, we need to leave. Now...", Katara urged.

He hit the door with his hand over and over with force, sweat beading his brow. "I'm trying!", he hollered out in frustration. Katara turned to face the dark hallway, numerous blue glowing eyes appeared and grew closer. She turned and began ramming into the door as well, hard, never taking her eyes off the Drauger margin towards them. With furious grunts both of them rammed into the iron door as hard as they could with no luck. Katara stared down the oncoming onslaught of Drauger, she felt her fire well up in her throat...

*Windhelm*

As Ulfric anticipated, they reached Windhelm by nightfall, the city lights shining in the distance. Aventis pulled his pony into its stall as they approached the stables and one by one the soldiers dismounted theirs and the teen trotted them to their places and tied them up to their posts. Ulfric handed the reigns of his stallion to Aventis, his Stormcloak soldiers unloading the caravans behind him and carrying things over the icy bridge, the city guards immediately opening the gates for their return.

"The feast will be tomorrow night, and I'm not going to ask you to attend but I do need to you to follow me to the Blue Palace tonight once you're done tending to the steeds.", Ulfric said to him. Aventis was a tad confused but nodded his head obediently and finished with the horses, Arindil had already gone to sleep.

Aventis followed Ulfric and Galmar to the Blue Palace, most of the city was dark and asleep. Upbeat music could be heard outside of the Candlehearth Hall as the bard played upstairs, the shadows of dancing and drinking patrons flickered against the candlelit glass windows. Ulfric smiled up at the windows as they passed by.

Opening up the doors to the Blue Palace Galmar stretched his arms out wide and yawned dramatically. "My bed is calling me, my Jarl. I'll see your ugly mug when daylight breaks.", he said. Ulfric smiled and laughed as Galmar lightly bowed and excused himself down the corridor of bedrooms. Aventis followed Ulfric until they were standing in front of his throne. The Jarl fished around for something in his fur lined robe, a jingling noise soon followed.

"As promised.", he said as he handed a decent sized coin purse to the teen. It was true, it was double his pay at the stables. Aventis could buy food, clothing, maybe even a room for a night or two at the inn. He was beaming with joy but he had to hide it.

"My Jarl, thank you.", Aventis said as he bowed to Ulfric. "This is more than generous."

Ulfric smiled at the lad. "You earned it. Thank you for accompanying me on the journey to Fort Kastav.", he said as he turned and began walking up the small steps to his throne. Aventis stared down at the full coin sack and began walking away but was struck with a twinge of emotions - guilt being the most prominent. He didn't deserve this pay, he didn't even deserve to be in this city. He was just paid the most he's ever been in his entire life by the man he was going to betray. He knew Ulfric and the Stormcloak army was the enemy, he knew what had to be done. But Ulfric had saved his life from a Giant, from a dragon! Aventis saw the passion that Ulfric has for his people and his land, his humbleness, his bravery.

"Thank you, Ulfric.", Aventis said once more. Ulfric looked at him with a surprised face, realizing that the stable hand had referred to him by his first name. He did not look upset, instead he smiled and nodded.

"You've already thanked me, lad. There really is no - "

"Not just for this...for the Giant...the dragon." For being the only person who gave him the time of day to talk to. "Thank you."

Ulfric closed his mouth and looked down at his feet. He smiled genuinely at the boy without saying another word. Aventis returned the smile and walked towards the doors, leaving the Blue Palace.

He fought with his emotions, though seeing his father's eyes light up when Aventis informs him of Ulfric's battle plans made him beam with pride. His father's approval was all he wants, all he needs. Aventis knew the information he held within his mind was of the greatest interest to the future of this war in Skyrim. It was more important to him than betraying a brave man - he kept telling himself.

He briskly made his way through the dark streets of Windhelm, his coin purse jingling. He turned a corner and noticed a store set back in the shadows. It had a brown banister over the door with swirls and other odd shapes carved into the wood, a lantern hung on a post by the door that was still lit and flickering. He squinted and inched closer, noticing the sign above the threshold - "Calixo's House of Curiosities". Aventis recalled the odd dressed man he met several days ago while pushing his cart around Fleabottom. He plucked out a couple septims from his coin purse and rubbed them around in his hand and stared at the store, thinking things over. He wondered just what "oddities" that crazy old man kept in there...

Aventis gently pushed open the wooden door, an odd aroma filling his nostrils. He took a quick glance around the open store, noting the burning colorful candle sitting next to the door, no doubt the source of the odd smell. He'd never seen a purple candle before. There were tons of nicnacs that lined the shelves of Calixo's store - books, scrolls, silverware, golden metal spheres, nuts and bolts, rare gems, odd looking armor pieces, funny shaped musical instruments, colorful pieces of clothing and fabric, and much more. Aventis stepped closer and Calixo Corrium popped up from behind the counter, nearly startling the teen.

"Ahh, if it isn't the Imperial beggar boy.", he said in his purr-like voice. "You've finally decided to visit old Calixo, eh? Welcome.", he said as he held up his arms, as if offering the store.

"I figured someone as crazy looking as yourself may have a few crazy things to look at as well.", Aventis replied back as he began perusing the shelves closer. He picked up one of the gold metal spheres and held it up to the light. "What's this?"

Calixo smiled a toothy grin and stepped closer. "That is a Dwarven metal heart, looks like nothing, until...", he pushed a small button on the side, making the metal heart click and clank until a number of metal pieces shifted within it and began spinning. Aventis held it in his hand with wide eyes as it moved around, vibrating slightly.

"What's it for?", he asked, never taking his eyes off of it.

Calixo delicately plucked it out of the teen's hand. "This, my boy, is the very heart of Dwarven Centurions. Have you ever seen such things?"

"I've read about the Dwemer and their machinery but not much."

Calixo nodded. "Centurions were the guardians and protectors of ancient Dwemer ruins. Huge and clunky machines that could spit steam and kill a man with one crush of their metal fist." Calixo talked as if he knew from experience, although Aventis didn't doubt in his many travels that the man may have encountered a Centurion. Aventis walked around some more, Calixo pressing the button again, causing the metal ball to cease its movement and retract to its spherical shape once more. He placed it back on the shelf and followed him with his hand wrapped neatly behind his back, his odd and unsettling smirk that he always wore. He came to a spoon, a very ordinary looking spoon.

"Whats so special about this spoon?", Aventis asked confusingly. Calixo picked it up by the handle and held it up to Aventis' eyes.

"This was Ysgramor's soup spoon.", Calixo replied with excited eyes. Aventis cocked and eyebrow, unsure what was so spectacular about some menial as a soup spoon, even if it did belong to the Nord who helped found Skyrim. Calixo offered it to Aventis to hold, but the teen waved it away, pandering the man a polite smile. He kept looking at the shelves until his eyes landed on a large book. It was brownish in color and leather-bound, it was cracked and worn in many places, carvings of faded circles were engraved on the cover. Aventis picked it up.

"And how about this book here?", he asked as he went to stick his finger into the pages and open up the book. Next he felt Calixo's hand slam the cover, preventing him from opening it. Aventis looked up in confusion and found Calixo's face, one of complete seriousness this time.

"This...is the Book of Fate.", he said with a hiss. "You have to be careful with such things."

Aventis scoffed. "Careful? It's a book, what's so special about it?"

Calixo's grin returned, his hand still on the book. "The Book of Fate is one of my most prized collections, all you need to know is in the very title - it tells the reader his or her fates."

Aventis' curiosity spiked as he looked at the cover once more. "So if I read it, it'll tell me my fate? My future? I don't know about all that.", he said with a small giggle of disbelief. Calixo's smile faded again and he removed his hand.

"If you don't believe me, then take a look. But you've been warned, boy."

Aventis had an unsettling feeling in the pit of his gut, a small voice of reason in his mind urging him not to open it, but like the store itself - he was curious. It was probably nothing, he told himself, a joke book more than likely. He glanced up at Calixo, who was watching intently. Carefully he thumbed his way to the pages again, opening the dusty book.

Aventis saw only blank pages, even as he briefly shuffled them between his fingers. For a moment he was almost relieved - it was just a hoax. Then the blank pages began to turn, an image started to appear. He glared at the book closer, studying it. The image of a black handprint took shape. Aventis was confused, he thumbed through the pages more and the handprint was there - plastered on every page, and growing blacker by the second. He shook his head in confusion and extended the book to Calixo for him to look at.

"Wh - what is this?", he asked him with a puzzled look. Calixo met his eyes.

"I do not know, boy. The book only shows the reader their fate - I cannot see what you do, only blank pages.", he replied.

Aventis looked back down at the hundreds of pages of black handprints, then those too began to vanish and something new was revealed to him. From the tops of the pages red blood began pooling, streaking down the thin paper as it ran on every page. He could almost smell it, the metallic smell of human blood. Aventis, horrified, dare press his finger to the page - the red wetting the tip of his finger. Calixo looked at the boy as his face turned to one of confusion to horror, but not seeing what was on the pages, nor the blood running down his finger. Only a blank book lie in the stable boy's hands.

Aventis snapped the book shut in the blink of an eye and jerked back, causing it to fall to the ground. He shuffled backwards and ran out of Calixo's House of Curiosities as quick as he could.

*The College of Winterhold*

Just as she was the night before, Fayleen found herself in Arch Mage Ancano's Quarters, rummaging through his drawers and dressers in search of the incriminating letter. She knew he had moved it, the stowaway in the wall was the first place she looked. He was smart. Mirabelle assured her that she'd have a window of time while Ancano made his nightly rounds, but Fayleen was too unnerved to work slowly. She was armed with one more invisibility potion, courtesy of Mirabelle, to sustain her secrecy while plundering through his things. She sipped down the first one just before she picked her way into his Quarters, and she was told she'd have a few minutes before it ran out.

She had to think, think quick on her feet. Fayleen stopped and glanced around quietly. If she were trying to hide such evidence, where would she put it? Her darting eyes landed on the corner of Ancano's bed, it was made haphazard-like. Thalmer are a particularly prestine about themselves, Fayleen knew that well from the time spent with her father. They tend to keep their lives in order, in every aspect. It's a trait that often pushes Thalmer into high ranking positions all throughout Tamriel than any other Mer or race. Something so simple, like a messy bed, was uncommon - even for a High Elf. Fayleen inched her way closer and pulled back the green satin linens...and she saw it.

The tiny scroll rolled up and stuffed into the hay and tundra cotton bedding, placed there in a hurry no doubt. She almost smirked as she carefully plucked it out and into her vest pocket. Her father's amulet was also plundered once more from a nearby nightstand, Ancano evidently not caring enough to put forth effort into hiding it like he was the confession. Fayleen told herself it wasn't leaving her possession this time, not again. She placed the leather lengths around her neck and allowed the emerald green pendant to hang below her slender pale throat. Fayleen wanted to stay knelt there beside the bed, soaking in the moment of wearing what rightfully belonged to him - the father she remembered and loved, as did Savos Aren.

But she didn't, she knew she couldn't, instead Fayleen rose up from the bedside and popped the cork off her last invisibility potion, noticing her pale skin become visible again slightly. She made a beeline for the door from which she entered but not before she couldn't help but notice that the copper and rose staff that hung over the bed was missing from its plaque. The sight tugged at her anxiety and sent a sharp jolt of fear through her. Unseen and as quietly as she could, Fayleen slipped out the door and out across the campus to the Hall of Countenance - where the professors reside.

"I'm afraid there's no mistaking this is his penmanship - Ancano has signed many documents, scrolls, and notes for me in our tenure together.", Tolfdir said with a grim look on his wrinkled face as he held the note in hand, eventually handing it to Faralda. It was passed around and read aloud to all the professors in the Hall of Attainment, Urag included, but everyone needed to see it in writing for themselves.

Faralda grimaced when she read the words passed to her. "I never trusted him, never did. A thorn among roses.", she turned her High Elf nose up in disgust. Fayleen stood in front of the group of mages with her arms crossed over her chest, watching each of them read the note as it was floated about.

"It's all true.", she said over their chattering, some whispers. "He needs to be punished, and Savos Aren needs to be avenged.", Fayleen said declarativley. Mirabelle stood close beside her, the letter now in her hands for the second or third time, every time she read it she was just as taken aback as the first. Mirabelle believed Fayleen down in The Midden, but she had to see for her own two eyes. Her and Ancano Telmithevary were brought up in the College together, attending the same classes. He was friendly as a boy, but even she noticed something changed in him as he grew out of adolescence. Now she knew.

Mirabelle looked up with shaky hands and her eyes met the crowd of colleagues in front of her. "Macremir's daughter is right. Ancano can no longer lead the College."

"And just WHAT do you suggest we do about it, Mirabelle?", Urag asked with both fear and anger in his gruff voice.

"We banish him, and we send word to High Queen Elisif the Fair at once.", she replied back to not only him but everyone, including Fayleen, who cocked her head at Mirabelle's words. The court mage continued. "I know we're angry, but this has to be handled justly. The High Court will kill him anyhow.", she finished surely. She was right, Fayleen knew it. But she knew he needed to die now, not after months of trial and jail.

"Tonight. It has to be done tonight. Ancano will know this letter is missing shortly, that I'm missing from The Midden, and that we're all gathered here.", Fayleen declared to everyone, mostly Mirabelle. Mirabelle nodded back in quiet agreement. The other professors nodded their heads and vocalized their agreement. Fayleen gave Mirabelle a look and she led the two dozen or so out of the Hall of Attainment and into the courtyards. They made their way to the Hall of Elements, the wing of the College that housed the Arch Mages Quarters, inside lie the burning Mandela sigil in middle of the stone circle room. Ancano was standing in front of the orb, his hands clasped in front of him and tucked neatly away in his long sleeves, a thin smirk penciled on his slender face. Fayleen and Mirabelle led the group to him, stepping inside the room. Fayleen remembered how drawn to this orb's beauty she was before, now with him standing in front of it, it looked terrifying. The arcane vibe it now emitted was unstable, unpredictable. It could be felt by them all.

A silent moment fell between Ancano and the groups of twisted faces, the Arch Mage breaking it finally. "Mirabelle, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?", he asked almost mockingly. Mirabelle glared her eyes and held up the tiny scroll in her hand.

"We know, Ancano. We want you to be punished for these crimes. High Queen Elisif will be informed and you'll be escorted away from the College.", Mirabelle answered professionally but sadly and with fear in her shaky voice.

Ancano scoffed and shrugged it off. He lazily pointed to Fayleen. "And you believe her, the thief? Do all of you believe this?", he asked to Mirabelle and the crowd behind her. The majority of them kept their silent glare, onlooking.

"It's in your writing, Ancano. It's unmistakable.", Tolfdir spoke up. Still, the Arch Mage remained unphased. He narrowed his eyes at Fayleen.

"Fools, the lot of you! This woman, this stranger from the streets, shows up a few days ago and brings you that.", Ancano said as he pointed to the scroll in Mirabelle's hand. "Did any of you see her retrieve the letter? How do you know the legitimacy of such matters from the mouth of a thief who was already breaking into my Quarters in search of jewelry before the note was found - she was up to trouble from the start.", he finished. Some of the professors whispered amongst themselves and Fayleen felt an uncomfortable feeling creep up her spine, the feeling of instability and unpredictability again. Even worse was Mirabelle looking blankly for a moment, as if chewing on his words as well.

"This amulet belonged to my father, Macremir. It belongs to him, Savos Aren said so himself. Now it'll be mine until I see him again someday.", Fayleen hollered to him as she reached for her neck and showed him the pendant of the amulet. A thin lipped smile crossed his face again.

"Ah, Macremir's daughter, I should have known that's who you are. He was quite the suck up to old Savos, wasn't he, Mirabelle?", Ancano said as his eyes flicked to Mirabelle, who was still staring at him as if she were in thought. She did not answer. "Pity that he just wasn't good enough to ever serve as Arch Mage though." Fayleen slowly reached for the pommel of the dagger that hung tightly at her hip, her anger welling up inside her gut.

"It's a beautiful amulet, no doubt. You're not leaving with it however, or that note.", Ancano quietly said with a snarl as he extended his left arm to the side and in the blink of an eye the copper and rose staff levitated from behind the large doors of the stone room and into his hands - via telekinesis. "You're not leaving the College at all."

As quick as she could, Fayleen loudly unsheathed her dagger and she heard some of the professors draw their small weapons, mostly just their hands as they readied their magicka. Ancano pointed the staff at Collette, the College's restoration mage professor. The blow was too quick to react and in an instant a greenish bolt of lightning came shooting towards her, piercing a hole through her small body and sending to the ground. She seized up with a fearful look upon her face, blood pouring from her gaping abdomen and watching her colleagues leap into action against Ancano as her final sights.

Mirabelle screamed in horror and was pushed onto her back when the professors flew into their frenzy. Some of them had turned and were fighting with one another, those of which still clearly supporting Ancano. Phinis Gestur, the Conjuration professor, had animated a storm attronach in his favor. It was a massive, spinning tornado of rocks. It smashed at the stone floor with its large swirling sand fists. He duked it out against Faralda, who was shooting purple lightning bolts at him and his attronach, her yellow fingertips illuminated in electric vibrance.

Fayleen lunged for Ancano, her long dagger drawn. Ancano raised his other arm towards the gates behind them and used telekinesis to shut them closed quickly and with a loud metal clank. Rose staff and dagger met, copper on steel. With every furious jab and slice by Fayleen, Ancano met her with a block using the rod of the staff. Finally she conjured her ward shield in her right hand, protecting her as she distanced herself from him around the side of the massive burning orb. Fayleen was able to catch a glimpse of Mirabelle, still sitting on the ground frozen as she watched the fighting taking place around her - colleague against colleague, Collette's body beginning to go pale as her blood pooled in between the stone crevices on the floor where she lay, her worried brown eyes still open even in her death. Urag was rushing over to her as he knelt beside her.

Fayleen snapped her attention back to Ancano as the two came full circle around the orb and let again, snarls on their faces. Fayleen extended her ward as Ancano hurled am anticipated blast of green electricity her way. It reverberated off her ward but it was powerful as it's blow was absorbed. It felt as though someone were punching her palms as hard as they could, vibrating the pain up into her forearm and shoulder. She knew her ward wouldn't hold off against more blows like that, Fayleen knew she'd fatigue herself if that were the case. In an instant she let down her ward and engulfed both her hands in an icey glow. As quick as Ancano, she flung an ice spike at him - but not at the Arch Mage himself, but his staff. The rose staff was ripped from his clutches by the force of the ice spike and sent flying several feet off to the side of the room and landing on the floor, the weight of the ice crashing down with it. Ancano cursed and lit his hands ablaze with fire, the flames illuminating his angry smile.

He and Fayleen danced with ice and fire across the length of the circular stone room, avoiding the other fights and the bodies that slowly began dropping to the floor with each loss they took. Both were quick and agile, nearly dodging every shot. Students had begun to wake from their beds at the booms and noises coming from where they fought in the Hall of Elements. Candles began to flicker as they rushed to their windows to see what the clamor was, other students ran outside and to the bars of the closed gates, others shut their bedroom doors and locked them, and a few even ran clear off campus in fear - but those students who remained watched in horror as the administrators of their great institution fought, some of which lie dead on the floor.

Ancano sent a searing fireball at Fayleen, hitting her in the thigh and knocking her to the ground. Her leather armor could not protect her against these blows, not like ones felt when her and Teldryn sparred. The leather of her pants was burnt and a bloody scar could be seen on her exposed pale skin. The wound was blackened in the edges, charred almost. She looked down and winced, her hands no longer engulfed in ice and now trembling as she brought her leg up to look at it. Ancano smiled wide and moved closer to her, his hands still in flames.

"Just like your father - never quite good enough.", he very plainly said as he stood over her body, blood oozing from her thigh and onto the stone floor. Fayleen could feel the heat radiating from his palms, the fury the burned within him. Ancano raised his hands and clenched his teeth, but not before he was frozen in action, his body suddenly glowing a familiar green. Fayleen looked over at found Mirabelle, both arms outstretched and lit with the same green aurora, casting a powerful calming spell on Ancano. His frozen face twisted in confusion and anger as he found himself not able to move, almost grunting.

Mirabelle moved closer to her target as Fayleen scooted further away from Ancano and managed to wearily bring herself to her feet once more. The teachers that had sided against the murderous Arch Mage, what few were left, lay down their arms and magicka as their fallen colleagues lie at their feet. They were breathing and sweating profusely, weary from using so much magicka. All of them turned to find Ancano frozen in anger. By this point some of the students that had fled the College returned with several guards from the neighboring city of Winterhold. The armed guards approached and began ramming into the iron gates, hitting it even, in order to pry it open.

Tolfdir and Urag pulled the gates as much as their old bodies allowed them in an effort to help. Mirabelle inched closer to Ancano, sweating beading her brow and blue veins pulsing in her hands and head - no doubt draining her strength and taxing everything out of herself in order to keep Ancano locked in the calming spell. Fayleen knew what had to be done - she unsheathed her large dagger once more and stepped towards Ancano again, her angry eyes staring him down as her sharp blade glistened against the orb's light.

She walked right up to him and stared the Arch Mage in his snarling face. The man that murdered Savos Aren, the Thalmer that would have her killed in an instant if it meant protecting his secret, if it took destroying the entire College - she wouldn't put it past him.

Finally the gates were pried open and the guards burst through like a herd of sabrecats. In an instant they seized Mirabelle, horror and confusion crossed Fayleen's face as she watched them wrangle her to the ground.

"Halt! Step away from the Arch Mage!", one guard hollered at her. Fayleen went to open her mouth to protest.

"No, you have it wrong! It's Ancano that - ", she was cut off by a powerful blow across her jaw. Mirabelle's calming spell had failed as she was seized and Ancano had regained his mobility, swinging his long and slender hand clear across her face, so much so that it knocked her back. The Thalmer just stood over her, then he looked to the remaining professors and guards in the room with him.

"They started a mutiny against me, all of them! They conspired to overthrow me, even tried killing me. Seize them all.", Ancano told the guards as they went to reprimand the professors at his command. Fayleen weakly shook her head, she was disoriented. She knew what was happening around her yet she felt as though she couldn't conjure the strength to do anything. Being the strong-willed Breton she was, she propped herself up on her palms and attempted to stand.

Before a guard could seize him, Tolfdir found himself with the copper and rose staff. He held with one hand and in the other...the note from Ancano. He held it high, the staff pointed at the guards.

"Everything is a lie! Ancano murdered Savos Aren! Here is his confessional, in his writing, his words...", Tolfdir said with a shaky voice. The guards turned their attention to him but did not approach while the staff was aimed at them. "It's him that you should be binding!"

"You senile fool.", was all Ancano said before he used the same telekinesis spell as earlier to draw the staff closer to him, Tolfdir clenching onto it now with both hands as the force actually dragged him with it. The guards and everyone looked on in both fear and uncertainty. "You never liked me being Arch Mage, you always thought the position should've gone to you.", Ancano said as he continued to draw Tolfdir and the staff closer, the old professors leather boots skidding on the floor while being pulled. "You're an old man, and a Breton at that! Never once in this College's dull history has a Breton ever served as Arch Mage. What makes you think you'd be worthy?", he spat through clenched teeth.

"Gah - Ancano you don't have to do this. You can - ah! You can serve time, deal with your guilt justly.", Tolfdir said through clenched teeth as he strained against the force of Ancano's grip. The two were face to face now, Ancano's sinister smile returning.

"It's been a pleasure working with you, Tolfdir. But I'm afraid out tenure together at this College is up.", he said as he was able to catch his grip on the rose staff, Tolfdir giving him a fight for it. He was able to free it from the old Breton's hands with a jerk, but a jerk too quick - sending a green bolt of electricity right at the glowing orb. Everyone turned to watch as the orb's usual humming grew louder and it began to shake a slightly, small flares emitting in an arch-like fashion from its spherical surface. The ground rumbled at their feet, many of the students turned to flee the scene and return to their bedrooms or abandon the College.

It didn't seem to phase Ancano, his fury so enraged as he held the staff in his hand and trembled with anger, aiming it for Tolfdir, who had lost his balance from the shaking and rumbling and fell to the floor.

"Ancano, don't!", Mirabelle hollered as the guards kept her in binds, her body twisting about as if trying to break free. Urag was in binds beside her. The Arch Mage tuned her out and pointed the staff at Tolfdir.

"I'm disappointed to say that I learned nothing from you in my time here at the College.", Ancano said with venom dropping from his voice. Tolfdir was eye to eye with the head of the rose, so beautiful and pristine against the copper staff, even when it's petals began to charge its green electricity from within. Tolfdir closed his wrinkled eyes and held his breath, but another sound came instead. The sound of steel meeting leather - followed by the subtle sound of steel meeting a piece of flesh, like a wet sound. Blood.

Tolfdir looked up and found Ancano, still as a puddle of water, his yellow face paler than usual. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung agape, bottom lips trembling. Behind him stood Fayleen - both hands on the pommel of the long dagger that was plunged into the middle of Ancano's back. The rose staff dropped from Ancano's hands as he fell to his knees, the life draining from his eyes but never closing them. With the drop, another bolt of green electricity shot at the orb, more shaking and rumbling ensued.

Tolfdir shuffled away and shot up to his feet, rushing over to Mirabelle before another guard could sieze him.

"We're not letting you go until we can get further questioning!", one guard hollered.

"We need to leave, NOW!", Mirabelle exclaimed as the shaking only grew more violent. "You can question us elsewhere, this place is not safe!"

The guards ignored her pleads. "Grab her!", was all the chief ordered as two guards rushed over to Fayleen, who was breathing heavily with adrenaline and standing over Ancano's body - blood pouring from his back and soaking his fine linen clothes. She snapped her attention back to reality and grabbed the rose staff, making a beeline for the set of stone stairs that circled overhead. She came to a door at the top, the guards at her back with their weapons drawn, and she opened it - looking down at Mirabelle. The two Bretons exchanged a similar look, one of survival. One of understanding. Fayleen closed the door quickly behind her and locked it. The guards shook the doorknob and banged on the iron but they could not open it. She found herself inside the Arcaneum.

The shaking was out of control at this point and finally the stone ceiling above them began to crack and shatter, chunks falling to the floor and into the orb itself, further disturbing it. All the guards looked up at the crumbling room.

"Now do you see? We have to leave!", Tolfdir said this time. The guards did not protest, they cut their binds and the ties of the other professors and began ushering everyone out of the Hall of Elements, some guards even running away themselves.

Katara and Teldryn rode quicker through the snow the more the light from the College grew, their steeds carrying them as quickly as they could towards the sounds of booms and crashes. They emerged through the blizzard and galloped through the town of Winterhold, passing students wearing their mage robes along the way. First there was just one student, then another, and another, until they reached the College arches and saw numerous people running over the icy bridge.

"By the gods!", Teldryn exclaimed as he hopped off Ashlander before the horse could even come to a stop. He began pushing through crowds of people, Katara jumped off Valkyrie and went after him.

"Teldryn, wait!", she hollered. She knew his mind was focused on one thing - Fayleen.

Suddenly, and with the loudest and brightest that they had ever seen, the orb in the Hall of Elements finally unstablized and exploded. Screams erupted from the horde of people trying to escape via the bridge, sadly some were even pushed off in the scuffle. The entire back corridor of the College of Winterhold was a burning bright light, it was almost blinding. Katara had to shield her eyes. Shaking and rumbling ensued as green and yellow fires from the orb's explosion burned shrubbery and anything made of wood, more rock from the school's structure began to crumble.

"Teldryn, we have to turn back!", Katara hollered over the blazing fires and screams. Tears rolled down her best friend's blue cheeks as his breathing caught ragged in his throat, glossy red eyes illuminated from the fires as his vision scanned the horrific scene in front of him. Katara grabbed for her arm, she tried yanking him back but he protested her with a defeating cry on his teary face. Katara had begun crying to as Teldryn slowly allowed himself to be pulled away from the scene, his eyes never leaving the firey Hall of Elements even as people pushed by him.

Then they heard her voice, the one they'd grown fond of hearing, even on her snarky days. She was hollering Teldryn's name with a shaky voice, yet he couldn't see her in the thick crowd. It was then that he felt her familiar hand clasp his and pull him away from the College, Katara seeing and grabbing into Teldryn, the three of them running in a chain off the bridge.

With one swift motion Fayleen unsheathed her dagger and cut the ropes that tie Namiira to the stables, jumping on her steed's back. Katara and Teldryn did the same and they fled.

They were both dumbfounded to see her alive, they scanned Fayleen - who had a bloody thigh, a busted lip, an emerald amulet around her neck, a rose staff in her right hand, the reigns of the horse in her other...

And an Elder Scroll, about three feet in length, strapped to her back.

The College of Winterhold began to crumble under the shaking and fires, massive chunks of the stone building breaking off and plummeting to the choppy Ghost Sea below, leaving the once prestine and ancient College in a state similar to its neighboring town of Winterhold.

Katara, Teldryn, and Fayleen galloped as quickly as their sturdy stallions could carry them - all through the night and straight to Whitewind.


	26. Twenty-Six: Breaking Bonds

Chapter Twenty-Six: Breaking Bonds

*Windhelm*

Aventis could barely sleep through the night. He tossed and turned in his dusty, cold bed. With the money the Jarl had given him he planned on renting a room at Candlehearth Hall for a few nights, but he was far too shaken after visiting Calixo Corrium's store. Aventis couldn't get the images out of his head - the black handprint with blood. It didn't make sense, but he knew it couldn't have meant anything good. Perhaps Calixo was just messing with him, performing some sort of dark magic to trick him. Surely that had to be it, Aventis thought to himself. There was no way a mere book could do such things. Then again, he had seen a Giant and a dragon just a couple days ago...perhaps the unbelievable was no longer so.

Aventis tried to shove the worries to the depths of his mind. After all, he was in charge of his fate. He decided what to do with his life and had control over the decisions he made, not Calixo Corrium or some book. He stood to his tired feet from the hay bed and draped his bear pelt around him instinctively, it rested against a short stone railing next to his bedside. Aventis slept with his leather boots on, they provided extra warmth. He muttered curses under his breath at the biting cold as he fastened his scabbard belt to his waist, sword hanging readily. He swore to himself that he'd rent a room tonight, but he had to pay a visit to his father first.

Aventis was so shaken that he could not stand to make the trek to the Nightingale Inn in the cold of last night, but anticipated conversations began funneling through his eager mind. He knew Commander Pavo would be proud of him, how could he not? Aventis will have given his father the enemie's very next move. Information that could lead to the end of the war in Skyrim, information that would lead to the death of Ulfric Stormcloak. That thought tugged at him a bit. Ulfric was the enemy, he knew that, but the rebel Nord didn't feel like an enemy as of late. He was honorable and fiercely protective of his people and his land, which in itself Aventis knew was not a crime. However he was the man who murdered his own High King. Men who do such things typically can't just get away with it. The logical side of Aventis knew that Ulfric did so because of the decree outlawing Talos worship, he knew the man's motives were just...

Like the Book of Fate, Aventis shoved the second thoughts to the back of his mind. He had a duty to perform, and his father's orders were too important to him at this juncture. He himself was important to this war. With a sigh of finalization he set out for Nightingale Inn in the light of the early morning.

Aventis opened the door to the Nightingale Inn, where he had been dozens of times prior. The warmth from the rolling fire in the middle of the dining hall hugged his body. His brown eyes scanned the room and was surprised to find his father sitting at one of the tables instead of in his room, he was cutting into a plate of elk chops and boiled chicken eggs. He was wearing common clothing.

Aventis approached the table and sat down on the bench next to the Commander, the two met eyes and it was almost as they didn't recognize each other at first glance - until a slow smile spread across both their mouths and they embraced in a hug, patting one another on the back.

"So, you survived, eh?", Commander Pavo jested with a warm smile as he clasped his big hand on Aventis' shoulder. His father's smile slowly began to fade as he looked his son over, removing his hand from his shoulder as if Aventis were a stranger again. "I see that Ulfric has given you a new getup...", the Commander said bitterly.

Aventis looked down at the nicer brown leathers that was given to him before the journey to Fort Kastav, and the unmistakable bear pelt that was signature of all things Stormcloak.

"I was only assuming the role you told me take on, father.", Aventis lowly said. He glanced the span of the wooden table and noticed a half finished mug of ale. He clasped his hands around it and took a swig from it, his father's eyes watching him.

"Since when do you drink ale? I recall you only ever taking a liking to wine, the spirits of women.", the Commander asked. Aventis didn't reply, and his father didn't need an answer. "I know you're just following orders, but it still disgusts me to see my son donning rebel wear. Have you at least brought me something? Any word from the enemy camps?"

Aventis peered over his father's head at the fat innkeeper who was lazily sweeping the floor in the corner. He didn't seem to pay them any mind but it made the teen wary.

"Can we go to your chambers to discuss it further?", Aventis lowly requested. His father looked into his deep brown eyes, eyes that matched his own, and nodded. The two got up and walked into the Commander's room, closing the door behind them.

"Well, get on with it.", his father hastily said as he turned to face his son with his arms crossed. Aventis took only a second to glance around the room, as if gathering his thoughts. With a subtle exhale he met his father's stare once more.

"Ulfric let on to his soldiers his plans for when the war resumes..."

Commander Pavo's eyes went wide for a moment, he waited with baited breath. "And?"

"He's planning on using the forces from Windhelm and Whiterun to attack Falkreath. They'll make their camps in Riverwood and all throughout the hills between Whiterun and Falkreath.", Aventis replied back almost in a hush. The Commander's eyes were still wide, even as he glanced around the room and took a seat at the small table that sat in the corner next to his bed. He looked at his son again.

"And you're absolutely certain of this information, Aventis?", he asked with a stone serious expression on his tan face.

Aventis subtly nodded. "I was sitting not much further than you and I when he announced his plans to the soldiers at the fort. I'm certain of it."

For a moment things were silent, even the sound of the hay bristles against the stone floor could be heard outside as the innkeeper continued his sweeping. The Commander rose to his feet again and walked to the window, peering outside at the falling snow and dark depth of the pine tree forests. Aventis knew he was thinking, his father was a strategical man like that. It's what allowed him to rise to his military position. The teen dare not utter a word while the Commander swirled his thoughts around.

"If Ulfric is planning on seizing back Falkreath then he means to secure the southern border, cutting off the flow of Imperial troops from Cyrodil.", Commander Pavo said without so much as turning his back from the window. "It's a smart strategy, I'll give Ulfric that. He knows with the agreements discussed in the truce that Falkreath belongs to the Empire, that we won't think twice about protecting what's already ours and will funnel Imperial troops over the border." Finally he turned back around, his face one of pure business. "And with the troops from Whiterun, Falkreath will fall to Stormcloak forces within hours.", he said almost solemnly, as if his words were set in stone and inevitable. He turned his gaze to his son once more. "And how soon until Ulfric acts on these plans?"

"Once the dragon threat is quelled. From what I understand, he plans on keeping with the truce until then.", Aventis answered obediently. His lanky arms hung tightly by his side, as if he were one of his father's soldiers receiving routine orders. He felt like a solider at times like this, his father was intimidating even when he wasn't acting as a military Commander. Aventis heard a weary scoff from his father.

"Heh, the dragons. The Dragonborn. It wouldn't surprise me if they're working together to fuel this dragon threat somehow - "

"The Dragonborn has nothing to do with Ulfric's plans.", Aventis said as he cut off the Commander's words as quick as his wit. "And Ulfric had nothing to do with the dragons, I've seen one up close, father..."

Commander Pavo had reached for and found a few scrolls of paper and an ink quill by this point but had nearly dropped the quill from his hands at Aventis' words. "What - a dragon?", he asked as he studied his son's face for a joke. For a moment, Aventis felt as serious as his father. He moved closer to the Commander.

"Yes, at Fort Kastav in the woods. It attacked our hunting party. Ulfric killed the dragon, he slayed his with his battle axe.", Aventis could feel his heart jump in his chest as the images from that day flooded his mind again. "He even - ", he trailed off before the words could be finished.

"He even what?", his father asked, his voice changing to an octave deeper in anticipation of his son's next words. Aventis looked down at his feet for a moment, trying not to fidget in the place he stood.

"He even saved me, father. From the dragon itself."

Commander Pavo registered his son's words, his eyes soon darting down to the scrolls and quill he had gathered, then around the room again. His mouth was parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Aventis wagered he was fighting with his emotions in that moment, similar just to how he'd done since the very attack occurred.

"If you assure me that the Dragonborn is not involved in Ulfric's plans then I trust your word.", the Commander lowly said, ignoring his son's revelation for what Aventis could only assume was conflict of emotion. He went back to gathering his scrolls from one nightstand and set them down at the wooden table, sitting down again.

"I assure you.", Aventis replied confidently. His father took the quill in hand and began penning black words on the paper scroll. Another quiet moment passed between them and Aventis inched closer, trying to peer at the letter. "What will you do now? What will we do now?", he asked quietly.

Commander Pavo did not look up from his writing. "I'm writing this information to General Tullius and sending off a raven at once.", he replied very briefly. Aventis only nodded slightly. He dared to press him again.

"And what will come of all this?", he asked. The Commander stopped his writing this time and hesitantly looked up at his son.

"If it's any of your concern, I assure you, I'll let you know.", he replied with a long stare before turning his head back down and continuing with the letter to the General. Aventis knew that stare, it was a look of warning. It meant that Aventis was curious about something that did not concern him, but it did concern him. It was because of him that the very letter being written was even possible, he reminded himself. Usually he would've taken his father's curt glance and dismissed himself, but not this time. Aventis plopped down in the chair across from the Commander.

"I assume you'll meet Ulfric's forces while they march on Falkreath, take him by surprise?", Aventis said as if he were invited to make the plans.

"I said, if it's any of - "

"It is of the utmost of my concern.", Aventis snapped back. His father's head jerked up to meet his face, his jaw clenched as tight as the quill his held in thick fingers. "It's because of me that this information is even available to you.", he finished, his voice almost a shout and he felt his father tense up.

"You'd watch your tongue if you knew it was good for you.", the Commander replied with pursed lips.

"No, father. You've done nothing but dismiss me since we came to Skyrim.", Aventis continued as he shot up from his seat and it was he that walked to the window this time, peering outside as he felt his emotions welling up inside him. "It's me that brought you this valuable information, and what do I recieve in return? Not even so much as a thanks or a pat on the back." He could feel hot tears creeping into the corners of eyes, but he fought to keep them from falling as he stared outside.

Commander Pavo laid his quill down gently and slowly stood up. He walked closer to the window and stood beside his son, facing him while Aventis still stared out into the snow.

"If it's praises and applause you seek then you should've became a bard, but this is war, son. There are no pats on the back for doing what's expected of you, it's called honor and duty.", Commander Pavo spoke lowly and with an attempt at gentleness, but Aventis knew his father well enough to detect the scold in his voice. "I am proud of you, Aventis. You know I am.", he finished as he outstretched his arms and took his teen son in for an embrace. Aventis could no longer hold back his tears, they fell down his cheeks like ice on a hot day. He wrapped his arms around his father, recalling the last time the two had shared a hug - when he was much younger, Aventis thought. There was something about the embrace that didn't feel right. It was that sense of unfamiliarity again, as if he was in the arms of a stranger rather than his own father. Aventis felt nothing, he felt no warmth or love...only resentment, a feeling in which he desperately tried to suppress, yet hummed through him like an angry bee. He and the Commander pulled away from one another and to no surprise to Aventis, his father's face remained stone and unmoving, like he too felt the emptiness between them. He had vied his whole life, especially as of late, to hear his father say he was proud of him - but when the words filled his ears he felt nothing.

"I promise when this war is over, when we've won and restored peace, we can leave this frozen wasteland and go back home. Your name will recieve mentions and your role in our victory will gain the praises of the Emperor himself. Don't you worry about that, son.", Commander Pavo said with a longing in his own voice. Aventis met his eyes.

"If we win the war."

"When we win the war.", his father emphasized. He looked to the table where the unfinished letter sat, pen laying haphazardly next to it. "Now, I have to get on with duty. General Tullius will no doubt want to hear of this at once." Aventis felt the air move as the Commander stepped away from the window and sat back down, picking up the quill and resuming his writing.

Aventis nodded subtly to his father's back and turned to walk out of the room, his hand on the knob of the door when his father spoke up from his wooden seat.

"Oh, and next time, son - don't wear Stormcloak garb in my presence again. No matter how immersed you say I force you to be, do not forget that you are not a Bear."

Aventis did not glance back to return words, he only twisted the handle of the door felt his father's cold stare stabbing him in the back of his bear pelt until he clicked it shut behind him.

The lazy innkeeper was pouring a fat glass of purple wine to a patron sitting at the bar. He was wearing leather robes that seemed lightly charred from flames and dirty from mud. His matching hood was half up over his head. Aventis picked up on their conversation as he left his father's room and made his way to the door.

"A burning orb, right into the Ghost Sea?", the innkeeper asked with wide eyes as he topped off the patron's mug and slid it over the wooden counter to him.

"I swear it on my life. Crazy as it may sound, I lived it, as did others. I never fled so fast before.", the shaken up young man said as he lifted the mug to his lips, his hands even trembling lightly. He was pale. "I could've kept running all the way home to Riften. But I couldn't make it any longer without warming up. I had ran through the night, never stopping until I got here.", he said as he glanced around the inn, his leg was bouncing up and down nervously. "Soon you'll no doubt have guards coming and going from this quiet little place. They'll be looking for him you know..."

"Looking for who?", the innkeeper asked with his brow cocked.

"For the man they say killed the Arch Mage of the College of Winterhold."

*Whitewind*

The wind whipped outside, it could be heard against the side of the house when the lone tree that stood by the porch scratched at the side with its long dead branches. The fire roared in its stone pit and Katara felt its warmth on her bare feet and arms. It had been burning for a couple hours since they arrived. Beside her on the table lay the Elder Scroll.

Katara looked over at it, it was longer than she expected, more than two feet. She ran her finger gingerly down the paper, feeling its smooth - almost fuzzy - texture. At the ends were two golden pommels, crested with various colorful jewels, that had a long brown leather sash connected at the ends so it could be slung over one's back like a strap. In the middle of the scroll was a red iron band, a thin band, that clasped the scroll neatly shut. Katara had dare not open it, not yet. She remembered Urag's words about people going blind, even those who were capable of reading the Elder Scroll like Moth Priests.

She heard the familiar heavy armored footsteps trudging up the staircase and crossing the length of the wooden floor. Teldryn appeared by her side and plopped down on the other chair that sat by the fire. He sighed at first then leaned forward and began unfastening his boots, he had not yet taken off his armor since they rushed in from the cold.

"How is she?", Katara asked while looking into the fire.

"She's resting.", he replied wearily, doing away with one boot before glancing up at her. "As should you be too."

Katara shook her head lightly. "I'm fine.", she muttered. She was indeed exhausted, having not slept many winks in their time spent down in Volskygge and galloping all through the night from the scene at the College they fled from. Her body wanted to sleep, but Katara's mind would not allow it she knew. "Has she said anything?"

Teldryn only kept his eyes down and shook his head as he peeled the other boot off and tossed the pair off to the side, going to work on his clunky chitin gauntlets next. Katara could sense he was anxious, tense even. She had the same feeling. Fayleen had not said a word upon fleeing the College, not even when they arrived at Whitewind in the early light of dawn. Katara and Teldryn had many questions that burned in their minds. Returning from the ancient ruins to find half the College of Winterhold plummeting into the Ghost Sea while a fire pushed out hordes of people raised enough questions in itself, but Fayleen valiantly sprinting away with an Elder Scroll and a rose staff, and several injuries, toppled on more mystery - and concern.

Teldryn was free of his gauntlets as he tossed them to the side where his boots lay and outstretched his legs, feeling the warmth of the fire now on him. There was a silent moment between them as the fire cracked and the wind whipped outside.

"This is a good little place, you know.", he spoke up, lightly glancing around them at the fire, the bookcases, table, a small kitchen, a couple barrels, and even weapon plaques that hung on the walls. That was just the first floor, underneath them down the stairs were two bedrooms, each with mannequins for armor and chests to keep their belongings. Not to mention the secret room that Ulfric had showed her upon first seeing Whitewind, the false door that led to the hidden room through the stand up dresser in her bedroom. She had yet to show even Teldryn the room yet, things had been hectic once they arrived. Fayleen was pale, paler than she usually was, and Teldryn carried her off Namiira and rushed her into the house, laying her gently on the bed and tending to the wound on her leg. Katara helped him clean it and wrap it as Fayleen broke out in a cold sweat, her teeth chattering. Once they stabilized her they allowed her to rest, but not before Teldryn made her take a few sips of a weak healing potion he still had in his bag and sat next to her bedside until her green eyes closed. Katara realized it was the first time Teldryn had really been able to take in the details of Whitewind.

"It certainly isn't bad.", Katara replied back with a nod as she too glanced around the room. "Maybe even in time it could feel like a home." She dare say the words, every place that she's grown comfortable to has been taken from her had to be abandoned to follow the journey of fulfilling the prophecy. The thought of the prophecy made her eyes darted back towards to the Elder Scroll. Teldryn noticed.

"It's...prettier, than I expected.", he weakly said, noting the jewels on the golden pommels. "And here I was anticipating a drab scroll that evaporated into dust when unraveled." Katara knew he wanted to ask exactly when she planned on doing just that, but he didn't press it. Now wasn't the time.

"What do you think happened?", she lowly asked as her and Teldryn shared a concerned look.

"Something bad, I can tell you that.", he replied back grimly.

"It depends on what you consider bad.", Fayleen's voice boomed softly from behind them. The two of them jerked around and shot up from their seats to look at her, standing at the top of the staircase level with them and leaning against the wooden railing.

"Fayleen, you need to rest. Please - ", Teldrym started. She waved off his words and made her way closer to them, closer to the fire. She limped slightly, the bandage around her hip stained with dry blood, her barefeet shuffling across the wooden floor until she found a seat near them and sit down with a low groan. The two of them knew better than to protest Fayleen, so they waited until she had taken a seat to resume theirs. They watched her with curious eyes until she settled in and met their gaze.

"Do you remember the book that Mirabelle gave me upon arriving at the College?", Fayleen asked them softly. They nodded. "Well, I spent a night or two flipping through it after the two of you left for Volskygge, just reading about my father's experience at the College." A smile almost curled up her rosy lips but never did. "There was a passage written in there by Savos Aren. My father had uncovered a Dragon Priest amulet in a school study of an old ruin. Savos gifted it to my father, his words were penned right there in the book. I knew my father never saw that amulet again, I was sure of it. It had to be in the Arch Mage Quarters still." Katara and Teldryn listened attentively.

"I - I broke into the Quarters and found it, the amulet was there.", Fayleen continued with a sheepish tone in her voice, as if she were confessing a crime to the authorities. "I had it in my hand when Ancano caught me. He threw me in jail, in The Midden."

"How did you get out?", Teldryn asked her, expecting the thief to say that she meticulously picked her way out, but that was not the answer he received.

"Mirabelle let me out, she snuck me into her room."

Teldryn's face scrunched as he tried to make sense of it. "Why would she break you out if you stole from the Arch Mage?"

Fayleen's eyes slowly met theirs. "Because that wasn't the only reason I was jailed." Both of them had curious looks on their faces.

"Along with the amulet was a letter written by Ancano, signed by him even. It was a confession to murdering Savos Aren in his sleep with Jarrin root.", she said very plainly and with a straight face. Teldryn jerked his head up and his eyes flew wide open. He chewed on her words for a moment.

"I knew his death was too odd, too untimely, even for an older Dunmer like himself.", he said in a hush. Fayleen nodded weakly.

"With Mirabelle's help I broke into his Quarters again and took the letter for good, along with this." Fayleen dug around in her pocket, wincing when her hand brushed her thigh. She pulled the Dragon Priest amulet out and felt its weight her hands, then she showed it to the both of them. She passed it to Katara, who looked examined it before handing it to Teldryn to do the same, the emerald green reflecting beautifully in the light of the fire. "All the professors read the letter for themselves, most of them sided with Mirabelle and myself. So we rallied everyone and went to confront Ancano. He was ready for us."

A twinge of anxiety shot through both Katara and Teldryn. They began piecing things together in their minds now as Fayleen solemnly stared into the fire and continued.

"Everything fell apart in that instant. Professors turned on each other, Ancano turned on us. Fighting ensued, people died.", she recalled bleakly as she looked down at her wound. She shifted in her chair slightly. "The guards from Winterhold arrived and put those of us against Ancano in binds, thinking that he was innocent. That rose staff, the one sitting next to my bedside, belonged to him. He and Tolfdir fought over it and it misfired at the orb that sat in the middle of the Hall of Elements. That's when the room began to crumble, people started to flee, but Ancano didn't back down." She fell silent for a moment. Katara and Teldryn never took their eyes off her.

"And?", Katara dare pressed. Fayleen looked at them both with an almost blank expression.

"So I put my dagger through his back.", she replied very plainly with tight lips. Teldryn exhaled the breath he was holding and sat back in his chair. Katara remained unmoved, she just stared at Fayleen. Another silent moment.

"And the people, did they see you kill Ancano?", Teldryn asked after a moment of swirling around her words in his mind. Fayleen's nervous glance gave him all the answer he needed. He got up from his seat and paced in front of the fire, running his hands through his black mohawk. "Fayleen, you understand that - I mean...", he struggled to find his words as they jumbled with his thoughts. Finally he rested his arm on the mantle of the firepit and wearily looked over her. "You realize that you're going to be one of the most wanted criminals in all of Skyrim, probably even Tamriel? Jarls in every hold will know to be on the look out for you, word will spread to every guard in the land. The High Queen, gods...", he trailed off, worry evident in his voice. "You murdered the Arch Mage of the College of Winterhold, Fayleen."

"Who would've murdered me first if I had allowed him the chance.", she shot back as she stood to her feet, wincing under the weight that it put on her hip but remaining standing. "Besides,", she added. "They don't know my name, and I doubt they could even draw a description of me, it was so chaotic in that moment. Even the guards ran for their lives when the whole place came crashing down." For a moment her mind flashed to Mirabelle and Tolfdir, she knew they wouldn't turn on her - that's if they survived, which she hoped they had.

Teldryn exhaled deeply and opened his palm, looking down at the amulet. He walked over to where Fayleen stood and wrapped it gently around her pale neck, fastening the ends together so the pendant hung at her throat. He took her face in his big hands and looked at her deeply.

"I'm just glad that you're here.", he said, his words barely a whisper. Katara smirked and looked away as the two shared a quick but deep kiss. He broke away and stroked her cheek gently with his thumb. "I'm going to feed the horses, poor things are probably starving and exhausted from last night.", he said to both her and Katara as he turned and walked out of the front door, a slight nip from the outside air filling the room when he left. Katara was quiet for a moment as Fayleen sat back down, she peered over at the Elder Scroll again.

"How did you, why did you - "

"The Arcaneum, in my escape. I took advantage of the situation. The whole place was moments away from being at the bottom of the Ghost Sea, it was the only shot at retrieving it. You needed it."

"You risked your life to get this for me.", Katara reminded her, almost taken back by her own words. Fayleen looked down meekly. "I can never thank you enough, Fayleen."

The Breton blushed a shade of pink and tried to shrug it off. "It's the reason we came to the College in the first place, right? Sorry I, uh, destroyed the place in the process.", she said with low eyes and a sheepish smirk. Katara smiled back for a moment, then she noticed Fayleen wince at her leg again.

"You need to stay here and take it easy.", Katara urged gently. "It's safe here, you know. This place is set back so far from the road that guards or travelers don't even think twice about venturing here."

Fayleen nodded her head in agreement. She knew she had to rest as well, her leg could get infected the more she exposed herself to the elements outside - on top of the risk of being noticed by guards.

"And what will you do?", she asked. Katara mowed over the question for moment, having not given much thought into what to do tomorrow, much less the next hour. She had the Elder Scroll now, just as Parthurnaax instructed. Katara wagered that the next step would be to trek up High Hrothgar again to bring it to him, seeking his advice on how to read the ancient texts so she could finally learn Dragonrend. The tool needed to destroy Alduin sat there, clasped shut, on the small table next to her. Though she knew she couldn't leave Fayleen, nor could she make the climb up the mountain alone. She was certain Teldryn would not stray far from Fayleen until her wound was healed more. Katara knew she'd be at Whitewind for a few days at least.

"Windhelm is not but an hour's ride down the southwestern road, I may go there and stock up on any food and supplies we may need for the next few days - any potions or healing herbs for you - visit with Ulfric while I'm there.", she replied.

Fayleen twitched nervously at her last words and gave Katara a wary glance. "I'm sure the Jarl will soon know about the College, if word has not already spread..."

"He'll never know a thing about you, Fayleen. I swear it.", she insisted. Fayleen relaxed a bit and trusted in Katara. "Besides, Ulfric is already wanted for murder himself, what can he do?"

*Solitude*

An abundance of scrolls lie on the large dark wooden table, some opened, others still sealed - all bringing forth news from around Skyrim.

They scarce held small council meetings anymore, things had been rather quiet for the capital city of Solitude as of late. Since the truce all Imperial forces have been pulled back into the Reach and High Queen Elisif stayed true to her word on keeping them there. She mostly handled small matters within the city and the hold, with the help of Falk, her trusted steward.

Falk Firebeard sat at the long table, next to him was Annette, the court mage, and across from the both of them sat Fenrar, the High Queen's closest knight. The three of them sat in silence, sharing looks amongst each other and tapping their fingers on the table until they heard the familiar knocking of fine boots echoing closer from the hall. Moments later High Queen Elisif emerged and the three of them stood up and lightly bowed to her presence. She acknowledged them with a smile and took her seat at the head of the table, the others followed.

"Where is General Tullius?", Elisif asked, noting the empty seat next to Fenrar.

Falk cleared his throat. "He seems to be late, My Queen."

Elisif shrugged it off as nothing and leaned forward in her chair, reaching for one of the unopened scrolls. "No matter, we'll carry on until he decides to join us.", she went to work unraveling the scroll. "Anything new that I should be concerned of within Solitude?", she asked to any of the three of them.

"We've had complaints from some of the citizens neighboring the Bard's College of their parties being too noisy in the late of the night.", Falk said with an annoyed tone in his thick Nordic voice.

"They do realize that it's a college for bards, right?", Annette remarked with a jest. Falk, Fenrar, and even Elisif laughed light heartedly as the High Queen began reading the scroll in her hands. Slowly her smile began to fade the further the words jumped out at her. Not only did her smile vanish, it was replaced with a look of horror. Her council watched her eyes skim from line to line, concern growing.

"My Queen...?", Falk tenderly pressed. Elisif gently placed the open scroll down in front of her and lifted her head with a blank stare, worry in her hazel eyes. Falk picked up the scroll and quickly began reading for himself, his lips silently mouthing the words as he read, before he returned a worrisome expression to Elisif. The scroll was then passed to Annette and Fenrar.

"I knew Ancano from my time at the College of Winterhold, he was not always a friend to everyone, but I never knew him to have enemies willing to go this far...", Annette expressed as she sat back in her chair with wide eyes.

"By the Nine...", Fenrar said as he shook his head. "Murder of the Arch Mage, that's a crime that warrants the chopping block."

"Do we have any clue who could've done this?", Annette asked.

Falk picked up the scroll again and skimmed through it once more. "The Jarl of Winterhold says that the College was nearly destroyed by the fight that ensued between Ancano and the professors, and that his guards were unable to relocate the remaining professors for questioning when the buildings began to collapse.", he finished grimly, setting down the scroll again. "There doesn't seem to be any definite idea of who murdered him to be specific." Falk glanced over at Elisif, who was silent and staring at a space at her table. "My Queen, what's say you on the matter?"

Elisif went to open her mouth but was interrupted by the abrupt slam of the iron doors flying open, the sound of steel armored boots clanked and around the corner appeared General Tullius - in a brisk walk and an unraveled scroll in his hand. He hastily bowed to High Queen Elisif and extended the letter to her without so much as even sitting down, his breath slightly quickened.

Elisif looked up at the General with a concerned face, a bad feeling grew in the pit of her stomach as she flattened the corners of the opened scroll and began reading line for line. General Tullius rested his palms on the table and leaned down, waiting for her to finish.

Once she did, her eyes flew up to meet his and she slammed the scroll onto the table. "Where did you find such information?", she asked, her voice hasty. The General took the scroll and threw it to the middle of the table so the rest of the small council could grab for it and read.

"I have sources in Windhelm, sources who have infiltrated Ulfric's inner circle, that assure me this information is accurate.", he replied. The note was being passed around and read by the other three. Fenrar was the first to venture on the subject.

"Falkreath, eh?", he spoke up, setting the scroll down. "Ulfric means to take the southern border back." Falk nodded in agreement.

"It's a good strategy for him, now we have to think of a better one to counteract his when the time comes.", Falk said.

"When the time comes?", General Tullius repeated, a slight annoyance in his tone. Everyone, and Elisif, gave him their confused attention.

"Are you suggesting a different approach, General?", the High Queen asked. Tullius finally took his seat next to her.

"I'm suggesting that we don't wait and bide our time until we see this plan come to fruition and Stormcloak forces are marching on Falkreath.", he started, glancing at everyone's faces but mostly Elisif's. "We have the upper hand, we know his next move. I say we take this valuable information and act on it - now.", the General beat his fist on the table on the final word for emphasis. Everyone at the table shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

"And how exactly do we act now?", Annette asked genuinely. The General gave her a look, almost a sly smirk, yet he gave his answer to the High Queen.

"We ambush Ulfric. Draw him out of that frozen pile of shit he calls a city and capture him. I'll bring him back to you - dead or alive.", he replied. "It would put an immediate end to the war, an instant win for the Empire.", the General finished with an eagerness in his voice.

"And how will you do it, this ambush?", Elisif asked. Her small council sat back, surprised that their Queen entertained the General's words. Tullius looked hesitant for a moment before giving his reply.

"That's really only for my men and myself to know, My - "

"I am your High Queen while you are here in Skyrim, General. You have been given a place to lie your head in my city upon arriving. I break bread with you at my banquet table. I have offered my home and my resources to you and yours in an effort to aid your battles in this war. I know that you are not a Nord, nor do you hail from Skyrim, but I am the one you answer to while on my soil.", Elisif began. She exhaled and met General Tullius' serious eyes. "You are not only here to put an end to this war, you're here to bring justice to my husband. You're here to make sure Torygg's death was not in vain. And I'm sorry, General, but avenging the untimely death of my husband is to fullest extent of my concern."

All eyes flicked to General Tullius, who sat there speechless for a moment, only mouthing the words in which he could not find. Finally he sighed and nodded in obedient agreement.

"Yes, My Queen.", he gently answered. The General sat back in his chair and gripped the edge of the wooden table tightly as he formulated his words. Eventually he fiddled around in his breastplate and fished out a map, unrolled it revealed Skyrim. "My confidants in Windhelm tell me that they learned of Ulfric's battle plans while visiting Fort Kastav. He's traveling, but only within his hold because even he knows it's too dangerous to venture too far - just as you do.", he began as he pointed to a spot in the hold of Eastmarch. High Queen Elisif and the other three leaned in closer. "If we could garrison one of his forts, preferably Fort Hoag as it's the farthest from Windhelm, and then lure him there...we could take him by surprise.", he finished. He made it sound simple. Falk had a puzzled look on his face.

"Seize Fort Hoag? Wouldn't the soldiers just send word back to Windhelm that they've been attacked?", he asked, fiddling with his primmed fire red beard. General Tullius looked up at him and scrunched his brow.

"I know you're no man of war, Falk. But I'd guess you were smart enough to figure a solution to that problem. There won't be any Stormcloak soldiers left to run and squeal to Ulfric once we garrison the fort.", he replied very plainly, a sharp jeer at Falk, who understood and dropped his further questions.

"I think your strategy is good, General.", Fenrar spoke out. "I'm a truer Nord than any when I say I want to see the traitor who murdered my High King gagged and sent to the chopping block once and for all. But what you're suggesting is breaking the truce - the same treaty in which you and our High Queen signed and legally bound your word to."

General Tullius slammed his fist on the table, the reaction making everyone jump. "To hell with the damn treaties and handshakes! It comes back to the dragons, thats all I hear around this wretched land - dragons. It's been months since the return of the flying beasts and yet they seem like the lesser of all our threats at the moment, have you noticed?" His voice was raised as a fire burned in his gut. "And our Dragonborn has yet to do anything about them, yet we know she's visited with Ulfric more times than she's slayed a dragon." That thought tugged at Elisif, she had a bad feeling about the possible alliance that she heard began to grow between Katara and Ulfric, she was worried about that months ago. Her worries only mounted as the General's words were bitter like the truth. She snapped her attention back to him when she felt his eyes on her. "My Queen, you said it yourself, the unfair death of your husband must be avenged. If it's anyone who should want to see Ulfric Stormcloak's head on a spike, it's you." For a moment the General was sincere, and Elisif sensed it. He was right too, Elisif had more reason than anyone in all of Skyrim for wanting an end to the man that killed her husband, her High King. But above grief and anger, she was still scared as she tried to hold it together. She inhaled and rose slowly to her feet, placing her palms on the table as if she were a Commander plotting a battle strategy.

"General, you understand that if we break this truce and fail, Ulfric Stormcloak will not pull back his forces. He will march on Solitude, you remember the day we swore it to each other in that snowy forest.", High Queen Elisif warned him with serious eyes. "The war will rage until its outside those doors.", she finished, pointing to the large iron doors.

General Tullius knew the risk, he also knew it was the biggest opportunity presented for the Empire to turn the war around in their favor. They had the upper hand, the element of surprise. It was a prefect recipe for success - if executed correctly. For a seasoned veteran of war like Tullius, it was a risk worth taking.

"You have nothing to fear, My Queen. Allow me and my men to carry it out how we see fit and Ulfric is as good as yours.", he replied back surely. Elisif nodded.

"And what of the Dragonborn? IF you cannot succeed, she will surely choose a side, of which I think is fairly clear.", Falk broke his silence. "Are we supposed to kill her too, with the dragons still flying about?"

General Tullius shrugged his shoulders and looked to the High Queen. "It's Ulfric I want, you should deal with the Dragonborn draft-dodger how you see fit in your realm, My Queen."

She thought it over for a moment, trying to reason with herself. "We'll keep her here until I deem it is appropriate for her to be released, dragons be damned, I'll fight them myself. Those who side with traitors should not go unpunished. Capture her. Alive.", Elisif declared. The General nodded obediently and looked to Falk, Annette, and Fenrar who had a remained silent yet listening intently and nodding in agreement to the High Queen's words, daring not to protest against it.

"Then I'm off.", General Tullius bowed to Elisif. "My Queen." He turned to walk away and dismiss himself, his iron boots clanking again with each step. Elisif stared back into the eyes of her three trusted advisors. She could tell it in their faces, the same faces she's known for years even when Torygg wore the crown, that they didn't fully agree with her decision. She also knew they'd never challenge it, they admired her husband as much as she did. Seeing an end to Ulfric is something they each wished for. More than anything she saw fear on their faces, the same fear she felt within her own being.

In that moment as she still stood to her feet, her council looking up to their High Queen, Elisif realized the cozy life she'd grown accustomed to had come to an abrupt halt - and the prospect of Ulfric storming the King's Keep once more rolled over her in a wave of loneliness and fear.


	27. Twenty-Seven: Always Your Friend

Chapter Twenty-Seven: "Always Your Friend"

Nearly two days had passed before Katara decided to venture out of Whitewind. She took Teldryn's advice and rested, all three of them rested. They lay their heads comfortably on pillows at night and cooked meats and vegetables over the open fire. They felt safe, above all. Even Fayleen had regained much of her strength and the cut on her leg was healing everyday. Still, they were not yet fit to leave Whitewind and make the climb up High Hrothgar once more.

She felt the chilly air kiss her cheeks and lightly chap her lips. She liked it, it reminded Katara of home. Most of northern Skyrim resembled the snowy part of Solstheim she hailed from. The terrain was nothing but snow and mountains and ice, she felt like she could breath. Even the Ghost Sea met her eyes on the horizon off to the side of the cobblestone road she trekked down, the faint sound of seagulls reminding her of the Skaal village.

Windhelm, however, was not like home. It stuck out against the snowy landscape like a sore thumb, though over hundreds of years the stone of the city had begun to resemble the very mountains that shroud its skyline - coated in layers of ice and snow. Katara looked up at the approaching city and couldn't help but bring a grin to her lips. She liked Windhelm, it had begun to feel familiar.

Katara trotted Valkyrie lightly into Windhelm Stables, swinging her leg over the saddle and hopping off to walk him closer, her boots leaving their prints in the snow.

"Hey, I remember this one.", a younger male voice spoke up from the other side of Valkyrie. He turned and took the reigns from Katara before his eyes widened when he saw her. "Oh, Dragonborn, I - ", he stammered, confused as what to do so he clumsily bowed, nearly losing his footing in the snow.

Katara covered her mouth from letting out a giggle. "It's quite alright. I'm not a highborn, nor am I royalty. There's no need to bow to me. You're the stable hand that accompanied Ulfric and I last time I visited, aren't you?"

Aventis nodded, surprised that she even noticed him. "Aye, I am. When we visited that old house up the northeastern road.", he said as he pointed behind him to the road.

Katara began to remove her black riding gloves, finger by finger. "Ah yes, I remember.", was all she replied. She remembered Aventis accompanied them, though he was not inside the house when she decided to accept Ulfric's offer of the homestead. She would've had no problem telling a teen stable hand that the old house is now hers, but with the delicate situation Fayleen was in, it was a risk to let on too much - to anyone. "Well, I trust you with Valkyrie and he seems to trust you.", she finished with a warm smile as she watched her stallion eat a carrots out of Aventis' palm.

Aventis returned her smile. "He'll be here when you return, hopefully not any fatter than when you left him.", he said as Valkyrie sniffed around Aventis' pockets for more carrots. The two of them lightly laughed and Katara dug around in her coin purse, fishing out three septims and handing it to him.

"Stay warm.", she said as she gave him a final smile and turned to walk over the icy bridge. Aventis grinned and placed his earnings into his pockets and continued on tending to Valkyrie.

Katara walked through Windhelm, feeling the familiarity of the city. She's grown accustomed to it, to its shopkeepers and busy citizens on the streets. She walked all the way up to the Blue Palace with confidence. Every time she stared up at the massive iron doors she was taken back to the first time she walked through them, not but a few months ago. She was scared then, it was the first time she was meeting Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, the most influential person Katara had yet to meet in her previously dull life. Ulfric was no stranger to her now, and the Blue Palace was still as beautiful, but no longer as daunting. The guards recognized her and pushed the doors open.

Servants were flitting from one area to the other, cleaning corners and cobwebs and setting places at the large banquet table in the middle of the throne room. Katara had never seen so much activity going on in the Blue Palace. She stepped further into the room and heard Ulfric's voice booming from the halls.

"And I want that snowberry pie you make so well to be served after the steak dinner.", he echoed.

"Of course, my Jarl. I do know how you love it.", a jolly voice of an older man answered. Finally their faces emerged around the corner of the hall - Ulfric and the head chef, who had rosy red full cheeks and a large belly and beamed proudly at Ulfric's company.

"You know me too well, you'll be the cause of my scabbard fitting too tightly before the winter is done.", Ulfric jested, the two of them laughed as the plump chef waddled away smiling back to the kitchen. Barely a moment passed before Jorlief joined Ulfric's side.

"The bard from Candlehearth Hall accepts your invitation to play at tonight's banquet, my Jarl.", he reported back, scribbling in his scroll as he talked.

"Ah, good. We'll need some cheery music to get people's minds off the tragedy at the College of Winterhold."

Katara gulped, however she knew she had nothing to fear so long as she said not a word about Fayleen's involvement. She pushed it to the back of her mind, Ulfric finally glanced over and caught her in his vision, he grinned as she approached.

The two met halfway and bowed to each other, then to Katara's surprise Ulfric embraced her in a brief hug. He smelled lightly of burnt firewood, no doubt from the burning fires all throughout his Palace - and a hint of frost mirriam, a common northern flower with a cold mint-like musk to it. Katara was a bit surprised at his embrace, but she patted him on the back and the two shared a look after breaking away.

"My apologies, I'm just relieved to see you here.", Ulfric spoke up with sincerity. "I heard about the College and I knew you had your sights set for there on our last visit."

Katara gulped again. "We did travel there, but I soon left again on a separate task that presented itself upon arriving. I was not at the College when it happened.", she lied lightly. "But I've heard stories of it on the road."

"I didn't care much for Ancano Telmithevary, if I'm being honest.", he said in a whisper. "But you made it out and for that I'm thankful. I have so much to tell you.", he finished, looking into her grey eyes.

"As do I.", she replied softly before glancing around the throne room. He answered her gaze.

"I'm hosting a banquet tonight. It was supposed to be something small and simple but my council has convinced me to extend the invitation to some of the upper class citizens of Windhelm. Their support and means for resources when the war resumes could prove crucial.", he informed her almost defeatedly, he wasn't a man of politics and war meddling. He offered her his wide blue eyes. "Accompany me tonight, Katara. Wear your armor, for all I care. You could be my only saving grace from those stuck up nobles.", he pleaded lightly. She smiled and thought it over, nodding as it came to her.

Suddenly Jorlief's voice broke behind them. "Dragonborn, I have something that belongs to you.", he said as he rolled up his paper and hastily scurried down the hall with grace to retrieve whatever it was. Katara turned her attention back to Ulfric.

"I don't see what harm it would do.", she answered with a smile. "I'm staying in Whitewind, as is Teldryn."

Ulfric was excited to hear this news. "I'm pleased that you've found use for it. It's highnoon already, would you stay in the Palace tonight as my guest?", he asked gently with curious eyes. Her eyes flicked up to meet his and she nodded almost instantly. Katara loved staying in the Blue Palace her last visit, it was the fanciest she's ever felt - like she wasn't some cursed girl from the island of Solstheim. It also allowed her to visit with Ulfric more...this thought made her heart flutter momentarily.

"I'd be honored.", she replied with a smile. Ulfric lead her down the hallway and to the room she remembered last, the room with the wide windows that overlooked the mouth of the Ghost Sea from the port out of Windhelm. She set her bag down on the wooden table and turned to him. Jorlief's jingling pants and belts could be heard growing closer.

"Here you are, my Lady. This came only two days ago. It's for you.", he said almost out of breath as he extended a scroll to her. Katara cocked her head for a moment and retrieved it from the steward's hands, looking back up at Ulfric.

"I'll let you be to rest and unpack. I'll surely see you this evening.", he said to her, bowing with a smile and turning to leave, closing the door behind him.

Katara went to work immediately unraveling the scroll, searching her mind for the meaning for it, until it dawned on her:

"Katara,

So it is true, you are the Dragonborn, and you're alive - at least I hope you still are until this arrives to you. I was relieved to receive a raven from you. Much has changed since your absence, dear friend...

Father is gone. He grew old in age and protecting the village from the odd powers at hand took everything out of him with each day that passed.

I head the Skaal now in his place, although it feels as if I have no village left to lead. Whatever awful enchantment was put on the villagers subsided, but they're not the same as they once were. They seem mindless, carrying on each day with their duties and expressionless faces. That damn...curse...changed them. I don't even think they recognize me. Aela and myself are the only two that remain unchanged, I've taken the girl under my wing. Her mother is not suit to raise her, though Aela is no longer a mere child anymore. You should see her, Kat. She's grown, mentally and physically. I've taught her how to hunt and fish.

I do miss you, old friend. I didn't believe the return of the dragons until I saw one flying over the Ghost Sea towards Skyrim, one red as blood. I hope you're safe, and moreso I hope to see you again soon.

Always your friend,

Freya"

Katara collapsed in the chair that sat by the table, she clasped the letter in her hand and peered out the wide windows - at the snow falling over the Ghost Sea.

It was as if Freya were in the room with her saying these things, she could hear it plain as day. She certainly missed talking with her, anyone from home really. But her friend's words saddened her, she knew Storn was old in his age and could not escape death forever. She just wished she could've been there, especially to comfort Freya while the village seemed...unavailable. That was another thought that sent a twinge of fear through Katara. Her people's unfair bondage was no doubt the work of Alduin, he was toying with her. It was personal and he hit home. It infuriated her as she shot up from her seat and walked to the window, pacing around with the note in hand. She shook her fists in a fit of rage, the letter shaking in bewtwen her fingers, until she threw the scroll across the room. It landed on the large bed and rolled off lightly. She fell to her knees and curled up in a ball on the floor, hot tears rolling from her cheeks as anger and fear overcame her. Katara felt herself sniffle to stifle to the tears, she wiped them away with her sleeve. She turned her head and looked out the window again, as if the gray snowy light from outside could dry her eyes.

Katara wanted to go home, more than anything. She could book passage on one of the trading ships again this very moment and sail away, back to Solstheim and away from Skyrim forever. The thought was so tempting it felt as if her soul and her mind had agreed to it walked out that room and headed for the docks in that very moment, but her body remained, remained curled up in a crying ball against the wide windows.

"It was beautiful, lads. You should've seen it. God's, it was fat and juicy. Nice and round and plump - and that was just her ass, you should've seen the roast she cooked!"

A group of Stormcloak soldiers uproared in a belly laugh at their Captain's jests and stories. They broke stale bread and clanked together ales of mead around one of the dining tables that stood in the mess hall. Some of the soldiers had gone to bed, others puttered around the fort and carried out daily tasks like smithing and forging, and a few sat clinging to every story the Captain would recount.

"Alright, alright. Settle down now. But truthfully, lads, she was a good woman. I married her for her ass, I stayed because of the roast!" Another loud laugh erupted within their little group that was huddled around him. One soldier laughed lightly and shook his head, picking up his mug and veering away from the men as the Captain continued on with his stories.

The young soldier made his way through the dining hall, passing several rooms that held dozens of beds each in them. Most of the rooms were dark, occasionally there was the scarce dimly lit corner with a solider crouched by the lantern reading a book of Talos. Light music could be heard from one of the rooms, a solider or two must've brought a lute with them upon being assigned here, the soldier thought. He made his way down the cold stone steps, pushing open the wide wooden doors and feeling the chilly air from outside engulf him.

The solider stood outside and took a deep breath of the night air, it was refreshing. The soldiers inside smelled ripe of horses and ale, it was nice to escape their stench for a few moments. Around him were a couple of the lower ranking soldiers tending to a small pen of livestock and a soldier or two patrolling this side of the fort. The air was still, not even the pine trees blew in the winter winds. In the distance he could hear a pack of wolves, even an owl, and overhead the melody of chords being strummed on a lute filled his ears mixed with the chatter of soldiers coming from the flickering windows.

It wasn't exactly the life that the young soldier imagined when he left his home of Dawnstar to join Ulfric Stormcloak in the war, but it wasn't as bad as it could be either. Most of the other men wondered and dreamt of great battles, victorious war stories that they could carry with them when they returned home. But the solider was content right where he was in this moment, for him, it was perfect. The men he'd shared the fort with had begun to feel like family, something he missed everyday.

"Say, mind if I warm myself?", one of the soldiers tending to the livestock spoke up as he nudged closer and pointed at the mug in the man's hands. The soldier smiled and extended his arm and the lowly livestock keeper took it and washed down a big swig, passing it back to the solider and wiping the foam from his lips, nodding his thanks.

"It's a cold one, aye?", he spoke up again.

"I'm from Dawnstar, this feels like summer.", the solider jested back.

"Ah, Dawnstar. Never ventured there before. I'm from Keynes Grove myself. My family runs a small farm there.", the keeper replied. He looked over at the pen again. "I joined the Stormcloak army to get away from farming, and somehow I still managed to find myself shoveling pig shit.", he finished. The other man wanted to laugh but instead felt pity for him.

"Well don't lick your wounds over it.", he gently said to the scruffy solider. "Everything serves a purpose in this war, even shoveling pig shit." The keeper offered him a wise look.

"But I want to be out there.", he replied, nodding out into the dark snowy woods. "Fighting the Legion and sawing Imperials in half.", he said with a passion in his voice that almost surprised the solider, who smiled.

"Seems most here want to do just that.", the soldier said as he and the livestock keeper looked out into the darkness of the surrounding woods. "Why did you join the fight in the first place?"

The keeper sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "I wanted to feel as if I had a purpose in this world, to serve the land instead of just tilling it when the warm months came. To find out who I am and become the man I'm supposed to be.", he finished with a sincerety in his voice. Both soldiers shared a look and an understanding smile.

It all happened so fast, one moment they were talking and the next a sharp whirr in the air caught the keeper in his chest, knocking him to the ground without so much as a last word. The solider, stunned, dropped his mug of ale to the ground and knelt over the keeper, noticing an arrow lodged in his chest. The man took his last ragged breaths and began to turn pale even before his eyes shut. The soldier went to open his mouth to call for help, then it dawned on him that he was the help. The solider, trembling, unsheathed his sword from his scabbard and frantically looked around. He saw the two patrolling soldiers rush towards them to see what was a matter, then he heard more whirrs in the air.

"Captain! Captain come - " It was his turn to feel the sharp iron as it impaled his throat, feeling the warmth of his own blood pour from the hole it tore in him and down his blue armor. The soldier dropped his sword and fell to his knees, draping his body across the cold ground. His vision began to blur and his head went fuzzy as he gasped for breath, each attempt flooding his lungs with his own blood. His mouth muddied from the wet ground, tongue and teeth turning redder by the second. In his last moments the solider heard movement in the forest followed by the clanking of multiple armored boots, and the final thing he saw before he lost himself to gods were the red shields adorned with the Legion emblem as they pushed through the treeline like a sabrecat that's stalked its prey to a demise.

Fort Hoag fell to Legion forces within a matter of hours. The unsuspecting Stormcloaks were caught off guard in the comfort they had grown accustomed to, in the safety and refuge of their stone walls. The attack was too quick and too sudden, and every Imperial knew they had one motive - leave no man alive.

Legate Rikke stepped over the bloodied bodies carefully, some her own men, most Stormcloaks. Steam began radiating from bodies and pools of still warm blood that collected on the floors. She removed her helm, her dark blonde hair matted and clinging to her sweating forehead, tan face dirty with blood and dirt.

"A successful garrison, General.", she obediently reported to General Tullius. He looked around as his men began carrying bodies out of the dining halls where cold mugs of ale still sat, the beds where their enemy lay their heads, and the halls where the Stormcloaks scrambled in their dying hours. The place smelled before, but now it reeked of a different stench - death. For the General, it was a victorious aroma.

"And no survivors, Legate?"

"None, sir. We're sure of it."

General Tullius nodded and looked down at his feet, rolling over the dead body that lay in front of him with one of his shiny steel boots. The bloodied face of the Captain looked back at him, terror in his lifeless open eyes and jaw hung limp. The General lowered his bloodied blade and wiped its red wetness on the Captain's bear pelt.

"Good. Extend an invitation to our Jarl at once then."

Katara almost wanted to run back to Whitewind and ignore the banquet altogether, but her heart tugged at her. She had things to discuss with Ulfric and sitting at home wouldn't have accomplished anything. So she threw on the blue linen clothes that she'd had forever, the ones that brought out the color of her grey eyes, and smiled through the evening with Ulfric by her side.

Dinner was phenomenal, as expected from the head chef of the Blue Palace, and the wine had flowed in abundance amongst the banquet's dinner guests. Every patron was stuffed, Katara even pushed away her snowberry pie, something she thought Ulfric would've smacked her for but instead he just shook his head and smiled. The last bottles of wine were being emptied as the night drew darker and plates were cleared from the tables.

"Jarl Ulfric, you must tell me about the slaying of this dragon I've heard so much about.", Torbjorn Shatter-Shield, a higher ranking citizen who helped manage the East Empire Trading Co for Windhelm, asked with a beaming tispy smile as he lifted his goblet of wine to his bearded lips again. The words sunk into Katara until she glanced sideways, surprised, at Ulfric. He apologetically shrugged and met her eyes.

"That was one of the things we had to catch up on, I suppose.", he lowly said to her with a whisper, then he addressed Torbjorn and the other wide eyed and expectant patrons. Katara listened closely as Ulfric settled in his seat and began his story with a sigh. "I had taken a hunting party from Fort Kastav several miles into the forest. The men deserved a fat kill to feast on through the winter. We made our way deeper into the thicket of the pine trees and found the juiciest elk you've ever seen, isn't that right, Galmar?", he nodded to his second in command, who sat on the other side of him.

"Aye, would've tasted great with a side of potatoes and a mug of Nord mead.", he replied. The guests lightly laughed. Ulfric continued.

"I drew my bow and readied a quiver and eyed it, but behind it I saw a flicker of light behind the elk in the trees, like someone lit a candle." Everyone gave Ulfric their full attention. "Next I saw the eyes, those unmistakable eyes. Yellow and bright and round, and growing wider the more it stared at its prey. Then that tiny flicker of light grew and illuminated a row of massive white teeth, and that's when I realized exactly what it was." The other patrons were in awe, Katara felt fear in her belly again. She knew the sight, even the smell, of a dragon all too well. She noticed that Ulfric wasn't addressing his noble guests anymore, but staring at a spot on the table, his mind transported back to that moment as he carried on. "Fire came shooting from the forest and in an instant I watched the elk die before it even knew what happened. Galmar and I and the hunting party fell back and watched as the beast walked on all fours, the ground shaking with each scaly stomp, to devour its fresh kill. Not until my last breath will I forget the sounds of it's bellowed breathing and the crunch of bones in his jaws. The dragon saw us but it seemed to retreat, until we heard the flapping and one of our men being carried away in its talons." Galmar had a stone look on his already hardened face, remembering the sight clearly in his mind. "It swooped down and reared up at us..."

Galmar couldn't contain himself. "Jarl Ulfric slit it's throat with Chillrend." Some of the guests gasped in amazement.

"By the Gods...a real life dragon.", Torbjorn said with a shake of his head.

"Talos protect the people of Skyrim if one of those things ever swoops down on us...", Lortheim, the Arch Preist of Talos, said bleakly as he nervously scratched at his silver mutton chopped that framed his wrinkled face.

"Dragonborn, what do you make of all this?", Viola Giodarni, a wealthy old widow that would often give money to the Blue Palace for resources, asked Katara in her shrill anxious voice. All eyes flicked to Katara.

What did she make of all this? Katara didn't even know where to begin. She was sitting at a table with a what felt like a sea of eyes stabbing her, the same eyes belonging to those she was destined to save from imminent death. Every second that passed it didn't make any more sense to her than the one before it. The letter from Freya, Ulfric's story, it all welled up inside Katara.

"I'd rather be out there fighting them than at a fancy dinner.", she said with almost bitterness in her cracking voice. Everyone looked taken back for a moment, but Ulfric just looked at her with a curious eye and a grin that he couldn't help but offer. She felt her cheeks heat up with all eyes on her, and a wave of both relief and regret washed over her, yet she persisted. "How is one supposed to save everyone if one cannot be at every dragon attack?", she blurted out. A hush fell upon the table.

"I ask myself everyday why the gods chose me, a reclusive Skaal. They have yet to answer. But for some reason or another, this burden, this weight, has fallen on my shoulders.", she lowly said as she cupped her goblet of wine in her hand and lifted it to her lips for a quiet sip, setting it down with a loud knock. "My Jarl, honored guests, you'll have to excuse me.", was all Katara could say as she stood up and pushed her chair back, offering everyone a lazy bow before turning away from the silent table. She felt everyone's eyes piercing her as she left the room so quiet she could hear her own boots echo across the stone floor.

It wasn't much longer until Katara heard the music from inside slowly die down and the guests' chatter move away from the banquet table. She stood out on the stone balcony, even though it was frigid and cold outside. There were small pillars that held rolling fires lining the balcony to keep the ice melted off the stone walls, they provided a bit of warmth, but the cold didn't get to Katara anymore. She stared off over the city of Windhelm, it looked huge from this angle, although it was. She could see lights flickering in windows, a few citizens walking around the alleys.

"I thought I might find you here.", Ulfric said calmly from behind her as he approached. She turned to him and lowered her head, a sigh escaping her mouth.

"I should not have said those things, I shouldn't have embarrassed you in front - "

"Embarrassed? Talos, no. Katara, you're the Dragonborn. You've got more on your shoulders than even High Queen Elisif herself. You're allowed to be human.", Ulfric said gently as he stood by her side and basked in the night of his icy city. Katara felt tears well up in her eyes again at his words, they began to fall but she looked away in an attempt to hide it. Ulfric noticed her silence and grew concerned.

"Katara? Katara...", he said gently again as he turned towards her. Ulfric brought his hand to her tan cheek til her teary gray eyes met his icy blues. She felt the warmth of his large palm on her cheek, the calloused roughness that was both tender and comforting to her. Ulfric cupped her face with his hands wiped away the tears from her eyes. "Are you alright?"

His words might as well have fallen on deaf ears. Ulfric needed no reply as their eyes searched each other's faces, worry and grim detected on both but softening by the passing moment. Katara felt his rough thumb ever so lightly stroke her tear stained cheek. She didn't even know if Ulfric was aware he was doing it, his eyes never left hers but the act felt so comfortable to the both of them. It was as if they both shared a thousand words without uttering one. A silent moment passed between them before Ulfric lowered his hands and Katara looked out over the balcony once more.

"A dragon, huh?", Kataraasked softly with a faint smile after a few moments passed. He returned her expression. "Your guests seemed to enjoy your heroic tale. Truthfully I know how terrifying it must've actually been, the smell of sulfur haunts my dreams every night.", her tone shifting to serious once more.

"It was fearsome, no doubt. I'll never forget the sound of it gnashing on the elk's bones, or the fire that shot from the belly of its throat.", Ulfric replied almost wearily, he cocked his head to Katara. "But what's even crazier is that in that moment, it wasn't terrifying - it was beautiful." Katara gave him her attentive eyes as he continued. "It was such a magnificent beast. Just beautiful, I didn't want to kill it, Katara.", he pleaded into her eyes almost solemnly. "But I had to."

Katara smiled tenderly up at him, she knew what Ulfric was feeling all too well. She thought she was probably the only other person in Skyrim who could understand the feeling. Sharing a born connection with such fantastic creatures gave Katara humility and humbleness, as well a supernatural sense of power, ever since she found out she was Dragonborn.

"You should try riding one.", she replied with her eyes wide. "I've soared over the seas, breathed in the clouds. It's...indescribable.", she said with a passion and wonder in her voice that made Ulfric grin. Another silent moment passed between them.

"What will come of this place once the war is over?, Katara asked him as the both of them overlooked the quest city. He offered her a puzzled look at first, then she understood her own words. "You know, when you win, of course..."

Ulfric couldn't help but giggle light heartedly. "It's alright, no need to sweeten it. I know my fate. It is to serve the people of this land as a High King should. If I don't, then it is to die."

Katara shuddered at his words. It was the first time the reality of the inevitable future hit her. The thought of losing Ulfric Stormcloak tugged at her heart, and she couldn't help but feel it.

"And you're okay with that, knowing the consequence to failure is your death?", she asked, not even second guessing the words before they slipped through her lips. Ulfric looked almost stunned by her inquiry. It was a question no one had ever ventured to ask, yet was one that he asked himself almost every day.

"It's daunting, yes. But it is the path that I have chosen. I accept the fate, but I do not plan on dying at the hands of an Imperial. Skyrim deserves a ruler that serves them, not the Empire. Just as you've chosen your path.", Ulfric replied.

"I did not get to choose this.", Katara lowly said. Ulfric offered her an understanding look but replied quickly and with surity.

"I was born the son of Hoag Stormcloak, the 'Great Bear', the heir of Windhelm. I did not get to choose that. But I made the decision to strike down High King Torygg.", he shot. Katara turned her head to him and listened. "You were born the Dragonborn, you did not get a say in that. But you chose to leave your village and pursue your fate here in Skyrim.", he said with an urgency in his voice, a need for her understanding.

Katara spun to meet his eyes, she could feel a pleading in them - and a truth, then a new truth hit her, an uglier one. "Seeing as how death is the only outcome for failure for me as well, I suppose I should share your sentiment.", she said solemnly.

"You will not fail, Katara. I have no doubt in my mind that I'll beginning my reign in a world where the gorgeous beasts do not co-inhabit, and with you and I still close when I'm on the throne.", he said meticulously.

Katara narrowed her eyes at him light heartedly. "Who says we're close, Jarl Ulfric?"

He pandered her jest, but then he looked at her wholly thoughtful. "Will you...stay...in Skyrim once you've defeated Alduin?", he asked with a longing in his own voice.

She walked away from the stone rail of the balcony and paced lightly. "I don't know, Ulfric.", she replied almost in a whisper. Then she stuck her hand into her robe pockets and produced the letter from Freya. "I received this from my village." Katara extended the scroll to the Jarl.

Ulfric took the letter and skimmed its contents under one of the lit fires that rolled in the night. He gave her an apologetic look when he lowered the paper. "People in trances? What could cause such madness?"

"Alduin.", Katara answered quickly with a spin towards Ulfric. "He's more powerful than just a mere dragon. He's a god of sorts, a dark and twisted one. How am I supposed to stop that? Even with the Elder Scroll I - "

"You have the Elder Scroll? From the College of Winterhold?", Ulfric asked with eyes dropping wide. Katara fell silent for a split second, second guessing the information she gave out, until she looked deep into his eyes and walked closer.

"Yes. The Master Archivist gifted it to me a few days before the collapse of the College. He knew the urgency at hand with the prophecy.", she stretched her words.

"It's at Whitewind?", he asked almost hesitantly.

"Of course, I wouldn't dare travel too much with something so valuable. Teldryn and Fayleen are with it.", she replied back confidently.

"I see. That is indeed a risk. What are you going to do with it now?"

Katara sighed and walked to the edge of the balcony once more. Off in the very far distance she could make out the top quarter of High Hrothgar, the tallest mountain in all of Skyrim. "I need to take it to the Greybeards, to Parthurnaax.", she looked to Ulfric's eyes. "It's the tool I need to destroy Alduin. In another days or so we'll set off."

Ulfric looked at Katara just how she'd done to him earlier, with a twinge of sadness and worry for the life of the woman standing in front of him with the blue simple dress and silver hair pulled back in a braid. A silent moment fell between them.

"With Alduin's doom growing nearer, the war draws nearer as well.", Ulfric said looking out into the snowy distance. "I suppose that means our visits together will be less frequent."

Katara looked at him wholly. "Our fates have crossed paths for some reason, maybe it's the gods, I don't know why...", she started, he turned to look at her attentively. "But maybe we're meant to be in each other's lives for a reason. Perhaps I'm meant to..."

"Go on.", he said as he took one step closer to where she stood.

Katara hesitated but gave in willingly. "Perhaps I'm meant to feel this way about you."

"You say that as if it's curse..." He took a other step. "Is it not possible that during so much war and destruction something beautiful could spawn?" His blue eyes sparkling with truth and sincerity as he drew nearer. He stood less than a foot or so from her, Katara could smell him again - the burnt firewood and frost mirram.

"What I feel for you, what we feel for each other, it's...dangerous.", she said with a hush in her voice. Ulfric reached his hand up and flattened his palm against her cheek again. This time he was deliberate when he stroked her tan cheekbones. Despite the bitter cold that surround them the touch of Ulfric's thumb sent a hot fire billowing inside Katara. She instinctively reached up and clasped her hand gently over the one that cupped her face. She looked at him with full grey eyes.

"To hell with Elisif and Tullius. I will never let them lay a hand on you, Katara. You know that by now.", he said with a passion in his voice. "I'm not asking you to side with the Stormcloaks in the war, I'm asking you to let your heart feel what it wants for once, what it knows is true. Just as mine does." Ulfric lowered his arm and placed both their hands on his chest, right over his heart. "I can't deny it."

Katara felt as if her knees turned to mush, her heart skipped a pace. Since she met Ulfric she began to feel something for him, and with each passing visit that feeling grew. Katara knew Ulfric had the same feeling, she could see it in those eyes, feel it in his touch - hear it in his voice.

Yet they both knew the risks - the Dragonborn forming an alliance with the traitor of Skyrim, how it would look to High Queen Elisif and the message it would send. But it wasn't fair, their ranks in Skyrim held them both hostage from feeling what they do for each other. Katara was tired of the loneliness she held in her heart, the sadness that rang through her everyday because of the life she was thrown into. She stepped into Ulfric and looked up at him, placing her hand around the side of his neck, feeling his warmth under her palms.

"The High Queen, General Tullius, no one will have to know. You will fight this war and win. I will face The World-Eatee and win.", she said in a whisper with certainty, so close to him that she could feel his breathing. "Then we will not have to hide. Then we can be together."

Katara felt his big band snake it's way up the nape of her neck, cupping the back of her head and bringing her closer to him with an urgency. She felt a breathless word pass between them as their lips crushed into one another. Ulfric wrapped his other hand around the small of back and pulled her into him. Katara slung her arms around his neck as the two shared a kiss so natural it felt as if a puzzle had just found its final piece. It was with a passion that Katara didn't know she possessed, an electricity that she didn't know she could feel.

Ulfric needed her in that moment. The ache he's felt since he laid eyes on her finally indulged in its wants. The feeling of her against his chest sent his heart jumping more than it already was. Her rosy pink lips parting his, his tongue exploring her mouth lightly. It all felt so raw - yet right all at once. Their breaths still smelling faintly like the last bottle of sweet wine that was shared at the banquet.

Under the moonlight and atop the icy stone floor of the balcony, Katara and Ulfric kissed feverishly in the refuge of the shrouded snowy mountain peaks that dot the sky around them.


	28. Twenty-Eight: Fates Aligned

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Fates Aligned

He fought the bitter cold of the early morning, the bite of the frigid wind against his eyes and cheeks. The sun had barely risen above the snowy mountain peaks. Aventis tightened the bear pelt that hung around his shoulders, he shifted it over his head and around his neck as he ventured further down the iced cobblestone road.

Aventis had worked his usual shifts at the Windhelm Stables, from sun up to sun down, upon returning from Fort Kastav. He had tried to distance himself from Ulfric Stormcloak since then, the guilt ate him up. He even rented a cozy room at Candlehearth Hall, one with a small but warm bed and a chest for what little belongings he had, and even dined at the bar for his evening meal. He had no reason to complain with his living conditions, they were the best he's had since arriving in Skyrim months ago. But there was that feeling again - guilt.

It gnawed at Aventis incessantly, each night and most of the day. The last meeting he had with his father was the day he no longer felt he had a father. It was clear to Aventis that he and the Commander had lost touch beyond reconciliation, they were no longer father and son but strangers. Or perhaps, Aventis often thought, they were always strangers to one another that he had not yet seen before coming to Skyrim. The guilt that ate at him was due to betraying Ulfric Stormcloak, the man who had saved Aventis' own life, the brave man who slayed a dragon. The Jarl invited his lowly squire to break bread with him at a royal banquet and compensate him handsomely for his work. In a few short days, Jarl Ulfric taught Aventis more than his own father did in almost eighteen years. He betrayed an honorable man...for a man he used to feel was his father.

Aventis rounded the corner of the road, just on the bend of the icy creek. There were only two more lampposts between here and the Nightingale Inn. He had enough of his own conscience stirring his thoughts around in the young hours of the night. Aventis knew only one solution - to tell Commander Pavo he no longer offers his services in this war. He wagered he'd tough it out in Cyrodil when they returned and leave home when he came of age before the turn of the year, getting away from his father. He wouldn't dare breath a word to Ulfric, just the thought of facing him made the teen brim with shame. The Jarl would surely hang him for his treachery and warfare espionage, regardless of a truthful confession on his hands and knees. No, once Aventis was cleared from his military service, or until the war was over, he would stay held up in a shack somewhere and ride it out. Perhaps even take the remainder of his stay in the Imperial city of Solitude. Aventis just had to get away from Ulfric - and thereafter his father...then he could start life elsewhere, trying to forget he was responsible for the fall of the Stormcloaks.

As he approached the lamppost that sat in front of Nightingale Inn, Aventis noticed a man tending to his horse as they stood under its yellow flickering light. As he grew closer Aventis could make out the man as Commander Pavo, and a brown horse that was fastened with a bag or two and a canteen of water that slung at the saddle. He was wearing common clothing. The Commander turned, surprised for a moment, when he saw Aventis coming up beside him with confused eyes.

"Ah, there you are.", Commander Pavo said very plainly.

"You're leaving?", Aventis asked him curiously as he looked over the full saddle.

"Yes. My duty takes me elsewhere." Aventis felt transformed into a little boy again in that moment, asking his father where the Empire sent him away from home this time. He had that conversation with the Commander a handful of times in his life.

"And you weren't going to tell me?", Aventis asked. Commander Pavo steadied his foot in the stirrup and hoisted himself atop the horse, slinging his other leg over the saddle and settling in.

"I figured you'd catch up with me soon enough.", the Commander answered, looking down at his son. The teen furrowed his brow.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you're going where I'm going - Fort Hoag.", his father replied, a faint smile curling up his lips. "We've got him this time, son. And it'll be glorious.", he finished as he clicked his tongue and the horse lurched forward. Aventis walked alongside him with a confused look on his face still.

"Wait - you mean..." It was all hitting Aventis in that moment, he was seeing it clearly, just as he was feeling the anxiety in his gut brew. "What makes you think I'll be at the fort?", he asked as he inched closer to the horse. Commander Pavo brought the horse to a halt and looked down at his son again, towering over the teen made Aventis feel more intimidated.

"Because Ulfric Stormcloak will recieve a raven this morning from his...men...at Fort Hoag requesting a visit and replenishment of resources. We'll be waiting for him there." the Commander leaned down slightly to get closer to his son. "Ulfric will no doubt choose you to squire for him again. This will the last time the two of us will be able to talk until then. Aventis, when the fighting ensues, I want you to draw that steel of yours and use it for once...for your men, for your Empire, for me.", he finished with a sterness in his voice before straightening himself and bringing the horse to a low trot down the road once more.

Aventis was speechless, everything that he worked on in his mind the past several days flew away like a raven. He had many thoughts and emotions racing through him, most of which was fear. The plan of escaping his consequences quickly vanished, just like his father down the road.

The teen sprinted down the icy road, nearly losing his footing several times. His heart raced as fast as he did, as did his mind. Aventis' nightmares were coming true - seeing an end to Ulfric Stormcloak, the very traitor he had found more honorable than any other man he'd ever met, at the cause of his own doing. Gods, Aventis cursed, how could he be so foolish? He betrayed his own honor by betraying the Jarl of Windhelm. Now he had to be a part of it. But perhaps not, Aventis thought to himself, perhaps he could collect his belongings and skip out of Windhelm before anyone suspected a thing. He was just a poor beggar boy, after all. No one at all would question his disappearance, and if Ulfric wanted his squire services then he'd be unable to locate him. No matter how honorable the Jarl was, Aventis knew he wouldn't send his men looking for a lowly squire. Getting out of Windhelm would be easy, but evading his father would not be. He was the only son of the second in command to General Tullius, if his father had any shred of love for Aventis then he'd send an entire Imperial detachment to find him wherever he was. He didn't even know where he'd go, but he'd surely figure it out. He was in an unfamiliar land, but so were Legion forces. With the start of the war again they'd no doubt be engaged with more important things. Yes, Aventis thought, it was all coming together. It was possible. He could be free off this weight.

All of Aventis' newfound hope escaped in the breath that caught ragged in his throat as he stopped in front of the Windhelm Stables. Two Stormcloak soldiers were handing Arindil a small piece of paper. The friendly elf thanked them and they turned to walk away, just as Arindil spotted Aventis and his eyes lit up...exicited to bear news of the Jarl's summons to the lucky beggar boy turned squire.

Katara slipped on her armor, everything but the bulky helm. It had scratches and burns on it, Teldryn always scolded her for not polishing her armor and keeping it looking nice. Over it she haunched the bear pelt on her shoulders, it felt different now. She stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself in it. Anyone could buy an ordinary bear pelt, but in Windhelm they meant something entirely different. It was the beacon of house Stormcloak, a symbol of pride and tradition to most true Nords. And to Katara, it was an extension of Ulfric Stormcloak.

Katara made her way out of the Blue Palace quietly, making sure Ulfric didn't spot her in passing. She wanted to stock up on food before she returned to Whitewind today. Teldryn and Fayleen had specially requested wine, of course. As the guards pushed the large doors open for her and the chilly bite of Windhelm hit her, Katara draped the hood of the pelt over her silver hair, both for the cold and the immersion. She wanted to visit the shops to buy her supplies, she welcomed moments where she could feel normal - if only for a morning.

Ah, but Ulfric. He was all that ran through her dazed mind as she leisurely strolled down the stone streets. Emotions flooded Katara, ones that were all new to her. Never had she been kissed how Ulfric kissed her last night. It reminded Katara of her first kiss with Sinmir, but this was different. Every fiber of her existence felt as though being in that moment with Ulfric was of the utmost importance. Like the gods had willed them together. It made Katara feel light and giddy, a rare emotion these days.

But there were the risks...the ones they knew all too well but took anyway last night on that cold stone balcony. She'd be lying if Katara said she didn't feel fear and anxiety tapping on the doors of her newfound glee. Her and Ulfric both led different lives...dangerous ones. There were mortals and creatures alike that would sleep better if they were both dead. The reality of losing Ulfric was always prevalent, ever since he killed High King Torygg, but now it felt more daunting - Katara was now invested in him.

"Watch where you're walking, milk drinker!", a raspy Nordic voice suddenly boomed from below her and broke Katara out of her wandering trance. She hastily glanced down and saw that she was only a mere foot or so away from running right into a man who was sharpening a war axe on a grindstone, sparks lightly flinging from the stone as the man still peddled on the side with his right foot. Katara collected her thoughts and corrected herself.

"I'm sorry, sir. Forgive me. I - "

"Say, that's a fine greatsword you've got there.", the man interrupted as he nodded to the weapon fastened to Katara's back. She instinctively reached for its pommel, feeling it under her palms. The man rose to his feet and wiped the black ore dust from his sweating face with his black apron - a signature of all blacksmiths. He extended his hand as if expecting Katara to hand it over, she saw no harm and did such.

The blacksmith took her weapon and tossed it around between his two dirty hands, feeling the weight of it as if it were a feather. He nodded contently before extending it back to Katara.

"Not a bad piece of steel, two hundred and thirty gold.", he said surely. Katara scrunched her face.

"It's not for sale, I'm sorry.", she stammered, a bit taken off guard. The blacksmith made an unamused scoff.

"It may be good steel, but I can tell that you need a change.", he stated matter-of-factly. "A greatsword was fine and dandy at first but now you find it slows it you down, you want the freedom of both hands in combat, there's nothing wrong with that."

Katara looked back down at her greatsword and rubbed her finger lightly over its iron and leathery pommel. A hundred or more memories flooded Katara's mind, however she heard the black smith's words ring true in her ears. But this was the greatsword that Sinmir forged for her, from the smelters of the Skyforge itself. The weapon that's saved her hide more times than she cared to count. It meant something to her, but every one who has swung steel knows you're quicker when there's less of it in your hands. A change did appeal to Katara, but it had to be for good reason.

"This is Skyforge steel, something I'm sure you can appreciate.", Katara pointed out to the blacksmith with a confidence in her own voice. "It'll take a bargain to replace her."

The blacksmith rubbed his chin lightly with his greasy dirty hands, only making more black marks in the spot where his fingers trailed over his beard. With a sigh he shrugged.

"Aye, 'spose you're right." He dug around in his clanking coin purse and plucked out a generous fistful of gold coins. "Two hundred septims and any weapon of your choosin'.", the blacksmith declared as he motioned to the weapon rack that hung behind him along the stone wall. Katara thought about it for a moment but even she knew she'd be stupid not to take the offer.

She nodded and took the coin from his burly hand, then gave him the greatsword. He smiled and walked her over to the weapon rack. Katara eyed them all - swords, axes, hammers, maces, battle axes, greatswords...

"I'd like to be able to move quicker and travel lighter. And recommendations?", she asked him as she looked up at the wall of sharp and shiny weaponry. The blacksmith moved eyes over his inventory and nodded as he absorbed her words.

"Quick, eh?", he repeated as he gingerly reached for an axe, extending it so she could examine it. "Ever swung an axe? They're small, but they'll slice you like a slab of butter."

Katara looked over the axe. She felt it's pommel and tried to picture herself hacking off Alduin's head, but it just wasn't the right fit. "It's nice, but I'm looking for something more...ah!", she exclaimed as her eyes landed on a sword that was sharp, almost needle-like. It curved upwards slightly and was a skinny blade. It stuck out from the rest and she immediately fell in love with it. "What can you tell me about this beauty?"

The blacksmith reached over and carefully removed it from its iron plaque on the wall, bringing it up to her face so she could look at it. "This sword is small, yes. But it cuts through the air as quick as an arrow. And it's sharp too...", he said as he gingerly placed his finger on the very tip of the steel blade. "Damn sharp."

Katara took it in her hands felt its weight, which was surprisingly more than it looked but still not nearly as heavy as her greatsword. Her fingers carefully and lightly ran up and down the length of the skinny blade, it was smooth as silk and sharp as a razor. The sun never seemed to shine in Windhelm, yet somehow light caught its edges and it glimmered. Her small hands grasped the leathery pommel perfectly and she stepped over to one of the combat dummies that stood off in the corner. The blacksmith watched her.

"Aye, that's good idea. Take a few swings with it and see if it fits ya first."

Katara barely heard his advice in her eara, she intended on doing just that without his heeding. She approached the worn out dummy, looking at his lumpy straw and potato sack limp body. There was a bright red target painted on its stomach indicating where she was supposed to aim for. Instead Katara looked into its eyes, which weren't anything but two misshapen black buttons. But for some reason she didn't see them as the eyes of the dummy, but as the eyes of all her enemies: Alduin, General Tullius, Commander Pavo...

Katara assumed her ready stance and held the thin blade to her face, taking a deep breath and looking at the dummy's dead eyes. With a spin quicker than she herself thought she was capable of, she heard the skinny blade whir through the air like an arrow. She could barely feel when her sword made impact with the straw dummy, only a slight reverberation in the palm that grasped the pommel. Next she heard something fall to the ground, something light...the straw head of the dummy.

Katara looked down at its severed head that lay haphazardly on the floor and then back at its bare neck, straw sticking up.

The blacksmith was right - like butter.

Katara waltzed through the large doors of the Blue Palace once more, beaming with pride at her newly acquired weapon and the weight of the brown bag that was slung over her back, brimming with food and bottles purchased with the coin she traded with the blacksmith. It took her a moment to notice a few Stormcloak soldiers carrying brown sacks and crates from room to room, she was curious.

Katara made her way through the dining hall and throne room and down the hall to the only other place she suspected he'd be, besides his chambers. She opened the door gingerly to the strategy room and saw Ulfric and Galmar hunched over the table that was dotted with blue and red markers atop a large map of Skyrim. Both of them heard the door creak and turned to see her.

"Uh, forgive me, My Jarl. I didn't mean - "

"Nonsense.", Ulfric said very plainly without missing a beat. "It's not matters of war we're discussing.", he finished as he lightly waved his hand, beckoning her to step inside. Galmar didn't protest and Katara stepped in the room and closed the door behind her. She moved closer and peered over the table, noticing a large black line drawn on the road outside of Windhelm, through the mountains, and to the edge of Eastmarch, almost to the hold of Whiterun.

"We've received a letter from Fort Hoag requesting supplies. We weren't planning to venture out that far until the war resumed but - ", Galmar started.

"But we help out our men at all costs." Ulfric chimed in surely. "We'll leave in the next couple of days once I can prepare the caravans.", he finished, turning his head to Katara as if speaking to her, answering a question he knew she was about to ask.

Katara nodded. "You must go where you're needed. I was just coming to say my goodbyes, I've got to be hitting the road as well.", she said with a sadness in her own voice.

Ulfric looked at Galmar and the two exchanged only a small look, one that wasn't quite identifiable to Katara, but afterwards Galmar bowed and turned towards the door. "I need to gather my belongings for the road.", he said routinely as he opened the door and closed it gently behind him.

Katara felt her heart race again, just as it did last night, when Ulfric's stare fell upon her face and it was just the two of them in the room. "Where will you go now, Dragonborn?", he asked her. He knew she didn't like to be called that by him, it felt too informal, too unlike them. But Katara knew he did it in jest, almost with a sultry endearment that she couldn't help but find flattering.

Katara looked down at the map and her eyes drifted over to the ice field overlooks, knowing her sleepy cabin sat atop those icy cliffs. "I'll head back to Whitewind, gather Teldryn and Fayleen. Then we need to make the climb up High Hrothgar once more, the Greybeards need to see the Elder Scroll."

"A dangerous journey, that is."

"Aye, we almost lost Teldryn on the last climb.", Katara said bleakly as she recalled that horrific day. "I wish you could come with us...with me.", she finished softly, the nearing farewell between them dawning on her again. She felt the air between them move as Ulfric stepped into her and ran the flat of his hand up the side of her face, pushing away a stray strand of her silver hair.

"My people need me, my sweet lady. Or else I'd be honored to accompany you.", he said softly into her grey eyes. "Although, those old Greybeards would never let me set foot in the temple again.", he said as he pulled away and walked around to the other side of the table, the heel of his boots knocking against the stone floor with each step. "I left their study to head Windhelm, to take my father's place and fight in the Great War years ago. I went against everything they stood for, everything they taught me.", he said with a slight sadness in his tone. "I became a man of war."

Katara stepped closer to him and placed her hand on his shoulder tenderly. "You became who you were meant to be.", she reminded him. "And one day you will become the High King that Skyrim deserves. A ruler who will serve his people."

Ulfric turned around and faced her again. "Where will you be on that day?", he asked her. His inquiry took Katara off guard and she had to step back to think about it for a moment. The man she had feelings for would become the High King someday, she was sure of it. But where would that leave her? To take the place beside him meant...

"I am no princess, Ulfric.", she plainly replied, pulling away from him. "Or Queen, or whatever name it is they'd add onto mine."

"I don't need you to be my Queen, Katara.", he shot back. "I just want you by my side, to call you mine. Behind every good man there's an even better woman, a strong woman. To hell with the fancy titles and crowns.", he said as his voice became gentle yet passionate and he stepped into her once more, this time reaching his hands around the side of her waist and resting them there. Katara felt the warmth of his big palms electrify her sides as she stared up at him. "We'll travel the land together, meet the people and understand how we can help them - act as a true High King. I'm not sitting in some stuffy throne room in Solitude for the rest of my days.", he finished lowly with a genuine smile. Katara smiled and stared into his eyes, a worry glimmering faintly in them.

"When shall we meet next?", she asked, her hand now over the one of his that rest on her waist, rubbing his knuckles lightly with her thumb as she awaited an answer. She could see Ulfric gulp and a fear of his own spread across his face. She knew he was feeling the same things she was fighting with herself about.

"You know that neither of us has an answer to that yet.", Ulfric replied. "Once you learn the Shout needed to destroy Alduin then the war will resume, until then I'll travel to my forts as necessary. Our paths have crossed time and time before, I don't see why Talos wouldn't allow another.", he finished with a smile, Katara returned his warm grin and the sun from the one small window of the room caught both their eyes. It was mid morning already. Katara knew she had to get back to Whitewind, she reached her hand and snaked it around the broad of his neck. She felt him lean in to her words.

"I have to go, really - " Her words fell on his lips like a hush when he tightened his arm around the small of her back and she was pulled into his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. Katara's mind and body were feeling a thousand emotions at once. She felt at peace in his broad arms, her mouth felt like a missing puzzle piece against his. Her soul jumped, as did her heart.

They broke away only for a moment, both breathless and doe-eyed. Their bodies pressed together, Katara's face flushed, even Ulfric had a spark of red in his burly cheeks. Katara only looked into his eyes and stood on her tip toes to plant a sweet, simple kiss on his lips - then the two broke away.

"I wish you good fortune in the war to come, Jarl Stormcloak.", she said honorably to him, standing up straight.

"And I bid you fair dragon hunting, Dovahkiin.", he replied with a wet lipped grin.

She stepped away from him and crossed the length of the strategy room and to its door in silence. Katara placed her hand on the handle and looked back at him, meeting his already staring gaze. She felt his thoughts, his emotions, just as her own in that moment.

"Come back to me safely, Katara."

"As you do the same, Ulfric."

She was out of the door and the Blue Palace in a matter of minutes, her belongings and new weapon on her person. Katara tightened her bear pelt around her neck and fought the cold across the bridge to the stables. She untied Valkyrie and trotted out of the city and down the cobblestone road, a small tear running down her cold cheek and a twinge of fear in her chest.

Aventis Arentino wandered the cold, dark streets of Windhelm. Usually he'd be in bed by this hour, but tonight he carried a large purple bottle with him. Inside was some of the finest wine he was sure the North had to offer. Every few minutes for the past hour he'd taken a large swig from it, his tongue turning a darker red from its sweet flavor.

He was a nervous wreck, depressed, defeated, and scared mostly. He couldn't do anything but accompany the Jarl to Fort Hoag in a day or two. He had plans to take his fate into his own hands, but now he knew it was certain he couldn't evade both Ulfric and his father. He gulped down another sad sip and stumbled through the streets. His feet caught on each other and he fell, catching himself along the stone wall. Aventis doubled over and set the bottle down on the ground with surprising gentleness. He felt his head beginning to spin, his thoughts swirl, and his stomach clench and bubble as he held himself in against the wall. Aventis had never been drunk before, not even buzzed. He only had a cup of wine at meals. Never once did he drink to forget, but tonight he needed to feel numb. The numbness dulled the fear, if only for a moment.

He spat out the saliva that had accumulated in his mouth, hearing it splat on the ground. Aventis wiped his mouth and looked up, noticing his was just shy of Calixo Corrium's shop. What the hell, he thought.

Aventis found the knob and pushed open the door, stumbling inside and trying to stand still for a moment. He felt the room spin again, so he fell forward and caught himself on the counter, knocking over a jar of quills in the process. Moments later Calixo emerged from a side room, rushing to see the commotion and clatter.

"What's going on in - Aventis? Blazes, are you drunk, boy?", he exclaimed as he walked behind his counter and gathered the jar and quills from the floor, trying to neatly rearrange them back in their place as he spoke.

Aventis propped himself up on the counter and hazily looked around for his wine bottle, which dawned on him that was left outside by the wall. Even in his poor judgment, he decided against going back out to retrieve it.

"Gods, you look like you've never held a spirit down in your life before.", Calixo said to him with a snobby tone in his purr-like voice, looking his sloppy demeanor over.

"There's no point anymore. I killed him.", Aventis slurred, his eyes glazed over. Calixo stopped fiddling with the quills and shot him a confused face, his bright green eyes wide.

"What do you mean, boy?", he asked in a hush as he leaned in.

"The Bear, he can't thrive in winter like he thinks. And it's because of me."

Calixo shook his head, not making sense of anything. "Are you hurt, Aventis? Have you hurt someone?"

Aventis shook his head, realizing he'd already said far too much than he should've. "I have no way out now.", he bleakly said as he noticed a pile of books laying neatly stacked next to him on the counter. He lazily reached over and pulled a couple of them closer to him, Calixo watching with an unamused expression across his tan face. He began to flip through them, a spelltome about fire. Another told the story of the Companions in Whiterun, a rough gang of warriors. Then he came across a book titled "A Kiss, Sweet Mother". Calixo scoffed and began rearranging the books he had strewn about nearly once again in their designated spots.

Aventis opened the book and nearly fell to his knees upon seeing the first page. The books dropped from his hands onto the counter as he reeled back, nearly shrieking. Calixo rushed to his side and got him up to his feet.

"What's gotten into you, boy? I should kick you out of my store for such a disruption!", he scolded him.

"The - the hand. The black hand...", was all young Aventis could utter as his trembling hand pointed at the book that lay open on the counter. His vision and his mind cleared slightly from sheer terror at seeing the mark again. Calixo curiously picked up the book and looked at its cover before finding the page with the black handprint, taking a good look for himself. He extending the book out to Aventis again and pointed to the hand.

"The black handprint? Is that what you're going mad about?"

"I saw a handprint, that same handprint, in the Book of Fate the other day. Right before blood began oozing from its blank pages. All it showed me was that cursed hand...", he replied grimly.

It all made sense to Calixo now. He thumbed through the book before setting it neatly down in front of him, between him and Aventis. He leaned in closely to the boy. "Do you know what the black handprint means, young beggar boy?"

Aventis only shook his head and awaited the odd merchant's reply with baited breath.

"It's a calling card of the Dark Brotherhood. Surely you've heard of the Brotherhood..."

Information came flooding into his mind, for Aventis indeed did know of the Dark Brotherhood. But he only knew stories of them, never books or symbols. His mother used to tell scary stories about them to him to get him to go to sleep at his bed time. But it still didn't make sense to him - the handprint, the Dark Brotherhood, the blood...what did any of it have to do with him?

"Why would the Book of Fate show me this? What does it all mean?", Aventis asked genuinely, almost pleading.

"I do not know.", Calixo replied. "But if that's what the gods showed you, then surely they wouldn't send you astray.", he finished as he went to go place the book back into its place in the stack of other books.

"I've heard stories about the Brotherhood and their dark magic. There's nothing they can offer me that would help me out.", Aventis declared, slumping over the counter again in anguish.

"Well, you appear to be in some sort of trouble. The Dark Brotherhood has been known to help out with...burdens.", Calixo purred from behind the counter.

Aventis perked up. "How so?" Calixo shot him an ignorant look, but realized the boy was serious in his inquiry. Without taking his eyes off the Imperial boy, he grabbed the book again and slid it across the counter to Aventis.

"Everything you need to know is in there. Give it a read - perhaps it'll help you find the answers you're looking for.", he said plainly. "Now...get out of my store before you destroy anything else for the night."

Aventis grabbed 'A Kiss, Sweet Mother' and left Calixo's House of Curiosities. He hobbled through the streets, right past his half empty wine bottle, and straight to Candlehearth Hall. He closed his bedroom door shut tightly and curled up on the bed, feverishly skimming through the pages. Aventis was always quick with smarts, being able to learn quickly. Still sobering up from his indulgences, the words still felt fuzzy to him but they made sense for the most part. He spent the next hour huddled by his dim rolling candlelight, clenching his stomach that gurgled and stayed in disagreement with him, just reading the dark book and all its contents. He learned who the Brotherhood was and exactly it was that they did. Aventis understood it all now as he laid the book down on the bed and brought his knees up to his chest, curled up and thinking.

Calixo's words stuck in his mind: "The Dark Brotherhood has been known to help out with burdens." He repeated it over and over, felt drawn to the statement. He was going mad, he thought, mad if he ever got himself caught up in business with the Dark Brotherhood. He shot up from his bed and rose to feet, having to steady himself still from wobbling. What if this was indeed his fate? What if this was the answer he see ked, the help he truly needed? Could it be so? No, Aventis knew what had to be done. He now understood what it meant when one employed the Brotherhood for "help". He truly was going mad, yet only one face ran across his mind at a thousand miles a minute. The face of a man who would've been better to him if he ceased to exist, better to his cause for running, for escaping this life. The face of a man who wouldn't think to look for him if he were head. His own father.

Aventis was surprised at himself for even considering the notion. He knew with his father out of the picture, Ulfric may have a chance at escaping...Aventis may have a chance at escaping. His mind tried to tell his heart that the things he were thinking were wrong, very wrong. Yet his mind and heart were in agreement about one thing - they no longer felt anything for the face they once called father.

It was the only way, he told himself over and over again. Give his burdens to the Dark Brotherhood, let them handle his father before they leave for Fort Hoag and Aventis could slip out before anyone would notice. It was more tempting by the moment. Finally the boy quit his pacing and picked up the book again, skimming through lines.

He opened his door quietly and tip toed around the dining hall, plucking small half burnt candles off the tables, and a flower or two of nightshade that sat in neat bottles on the bar for smell and decoration. He slunk back to his room and laid them all on the floor. He fell to his knees and arranged them as the book depicted, still a bit woozy even on his knees. He lit them each one by one, illuminating the circle of candles he sat in the middle of. A feeling washed over him, one he didn't expect to find in himself during such a time - relief. He felt the weight that beared down on him already beginning to be lifted. The circle, this ritual, the Black Sacrement as he read...it was supposed to be dark. But for some reason he felt at peace sitting inside its ominous dimly lit circle. He laid the book down in front of him so the flickering light could catch the words on the page. He flipped to the correct paragraph and closed his eyes, reciting the words as instructed.

"... sweet Mother, sweet Mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear..."


	29. Twenty-Nine: The Pretty Monster

Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Pretty Monster

*The next day, somewhere off the main road, Eastmarch hold*

"I'm sorry, but we have to."

"I - I'll dress differently or something. Please don't..."

"Trust me, it's not what I want either", Teldryn replied as he held his dagger up to Fayleen. "It's what has to be done...for your safety."

Fayleen made a grimacing face and her pale hands wrapped around the length of her long black hair that hung past her shoulders. She sighed in defeat, knowing he was right. Finally she nodded and Teldryn spun around behind her, gently clasping the last several inches of her black curls and bringing the jagged edge of his dagger to the thin strands, cutting a straight line across. Fayleen looked down at the ground and saw long pieces and chunks of her black hair strewn around her. She reached her hands up to her head and ran her fingers through her still choppy hair that now hung just below her pointed elven ears.

"Still just as beautiful, you know.", Teldryn softly said as he sheathed his dagger to his side and looked upon her porcelain skin face with a small smile. Fayleen tried to offer him a smile back, but she knew why it had to be done. If anyone from the College of Winterhold remembered who she was or what she looked like then her very life could be in danger. The Arch Mage was murdered, and no doubt every kingdom and hold all throughout Tamriel was aware of it by now. If changing her appearance was a precaution she had to make for her own survival then she considered it a small sacrifice that paled in comparison to the greater situation she found herself in.

"You're only saying that because you like me.", Fayleen said to him with her eyes slanted up at him.

Teldryn's eyes flicked down to her chest quickly then back up at her. "You're right. I'm only trying to bed you.", he replied in almost a sultry voice. The two of them exchanged sly grins with each other.

"Where are we?", Katara spoke up from several feet away, looking up at the trees then back down at the open map in her hands.

"A mile or so off the road.", Teldryn replied as he stepped closer and looked up at the cluster of mountains on the near horizon that met their treeline. "We're a couple hours shy of Cragwallow Pass."

"Cragwallow Pass, there seems to be a bridge or trench through there?", Katara pointed out as her eyes flicked over the cluster of mountains on her map.

"Yes, it's a mountain that sits over the Black River and the only way of crossing is through that Pass - built gods know how many centuries ago."

"I've heard it's treacherous.", Fayleen chimed in. "Never ventured through myself. Never really came this far before now come to think of it.", she finished, looking at the snowy wooded landscape around her.

"We should make camp just on the other side of the mountain, it'll nearly be nightfall by then.", Teldryn replied. "We should be alright, but we've got to move carefully and swiftly through.", he finished with a serious trailing in his tone.

"Why not just stick to the main roads? I can't be that noticeable, Teldryn. I think we'll be fine.", Fayleen remarked irritably as she pulled her brown leather hood over her head.

"It's the safest option, Fayleen. For all of us."

"He's right.", Katara spoke up from beside Valkyrie. She reached up to his saddle and pushed aside a brown blanket on the back of his hide, revealing the edge to one of the golden jewel-crested pommels of the Elder Scroll. It was fastened tightly to the stallion. "We can't take any risks. Staying off the main roads and crossing Cragwallow Pass may be the best option."

Fayleen looked at both Teldryn and Katara with defense for a second, then she reached up to her neck and gently proded the Dragon Priest amulet that hung at her throat. She sighed and looked to the rose staff that was strapped tightly to Namiira, finally nodding in agreement.

"Alright, alright. But I've heard bad things about that Pass, I'm telling the both of you.", she warned as she hoisted herself atop Namiira.

Katara turned to Teldryn. "How dangerous is it exactly, Tel?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "You know - frost trolls, slick ice, the occasional bandit. I told you, it can be more treacherous than the main roads. But if we can still cross the Pass in daylight, and do so quickly, then the risk shouldn't be high." He informed them. Teldryn stepped up to mount Ashlander's saddle. "Besides, we've got three quick steeds, good steel, and a Dragonborn.", he added with a smile of surity. Katara stuck her foot in the stirrup and sat upon Valkyrie. She trusted in Teldryn, but she didn't trust the certainty of an icy crossing called Cragwallow Pass and hailed dangerous by Fayleen, one of the most desensitized people Katara had known. Still, she clicked her heels and Valkyrie followed Teldryn's lead into the thickets of the forest and straight for the cluster of snowy mountain peaks.

They could tell that they had arrived, or at least come very close, to Cragwallow Pass. The horses had to make several steep climbs and sharp twists around mountains. All three of them felt the change in altitude in their heads, the pressure that built the higher they climed. Still, it was nothing compared to High Hrothgar.

Teldryn slowed his steed and rode alongside Katara, Fayleen just riding within earshot. They began to approach a final curve in the mountainous peaks they had ascended. Past that lie the old bridge itself. As they trotted closer Katara could see it was nothing but a mere rock bridge connecting one peak of the mountain to the other, narrow and icy. There seemed to be a small wooden railing on either side of the bridge's ledges, a small sign of human interaction on a rather mysterious and ancient thing. On either side of them was the Black River, rushing and thrashing hundreds of feet below them all.

Katara heard the low but distinct "shink!" of Teldryn's jagged dagger being removed from the scabbard at his waist. He threw his head back only for a moment to the girls. "Step lightly, and quietly.", he reminded them, keeping his weapon drawn on his lap as he tentatively moved forward. "And don't look down.", he added with a gulp in his own throat.

Fayleen gripped the reigns of Namiira tightly in one hand and the rose staff in the other, her hood pulled up against the cold but her eyes watching everything as they trotted cautiously along. Teldryn kept a low burning hand extended into the snowy path in front of them. They could not see the other side of the bridge, save that Black River was so wide in its girth. The wind whipped at them but it was not enough to stutter their steps, so hurried along they did - until Teldryn stopped them abruptly.

"Shh...", he whispered. Ashlander's ears flicked, to the front then to the back again. Suddenly several figures began to emerge from the snowy trail ahead of them. As they drew nearer the three of them could make them out as folks wearing furs and pelts, scraggly clothing and warpaint, and weilding sharp steel - bandits.

It only took a split second for Teldryn to glance back to Katara and Fayleen, who understood his eyes. Katara tightened her fingers around the pommel of her new sword, and Fayleen steadied the rose staff with its bud aimed at the rugged bunch. Teldryn kept his blade low at his thigh but held onto it readily as he stared down the approaching bandits.

"It's a bit cold to be traveling this far off the road, wouldn't you say, elf?", one bandit spoke up, he had yellow hair that was mangled and wet from the falling snowy. A deep red scar ran over the apple of his cheek. He was wearing a dirty steel armor that was stitched and bound with leather. Beside him stood at least a dozen rugged men and women, paint adorned on their faces mixed with dirt and blood.

"I could ask you the same, travelers.", Teldryn eloquently replied back. Silence for a moment. "We're just crossing to the other side of the Pass if you don't mind."

"You know how these things work, do you?", the bandit chief asked them as he gently nodded his head towards them. One of the bandits behind him stepped forward and grasped his axe with both hands. "You can hand over your valuables, nice and easy." With a swift motion Teldryn swung his leg over the saddle and climbed off Ashlander.

"Oh, come now. Surely we can discuss this and work something out.", he plainly said, stepping closer to the approaching bandit. Once they were within arms reach of each other Teldryn flung the hand that held his dagger from his side, sending a quick slice straight to the unsuspecting bandit's throat, his body going limp with the red wetness that pooled at Teldryn's boots.

The bandits sprung into action at the same time as Katara. She dismounted Valkyrie and the stallion stuttered back for a moment at the hooting and hollering of the bandits as they charged. Fayleen gave her mare a quick kick with her ankle and she was sent charging at the bandits with her rose staff barred. The sight almost took Katara off her guard, never had she seen the beauty of the staff before. From a beautiful copper rose came shooting the brightest green electricity one has ever seen. It was deadly and beautiful all at once. Her bolt hit one of the bandits square in his chest, his lifeless body falling to the cold stone ground.

Katara went to work on the bandit that closed in on her. She sliced and spun and dodged with her skinny blade whirring through the air with every twist and turn. She could hear the tip of her steel connecting, slicing, flesh. It could be felt in the pads of her fingertips in the skinny pommel, reverberating back like their screams. Until it was Katara's turn to yelp when one of their axes found her forearm. Luckily it was just the searing edge of the steel that caught her, but it was enough to draw blood and slow Katara down. She cried in a fit of anger and pain and drove her long blade straight through the bandit. It's sharp tip could be seen poking out the man's back. But just as he fell to the ground off her blade, two more bandits closed in on her.

Teldryn sent fireballs hurling at the chief, but despite his clunky armor he was swift in dodging them at a distance. They danced across the length of the narrow bridge. Finally they were within arms reach and both drew their steel, loud clashes and grunts exchanged.

Fayleen galloped in a circle around the fighting, shooting the bandits that she could within reach. Within moments she had a handful down, deep burn wounds oozing blood while they on the floor. She turned her attention to Teldryn and fired a charge directly at the bandit chief, hitting him in his shoulder and knocking him several feet away to the ground. Teldryn steadied his balance and drew his jagged dagger back out from his side as he lifted the injured bandit chief off the ground by the leather breast plate of his armor. Teldryn plunged his drawn back dagger into the throat of the chief, up and out his mouth, his eyes gone wide and bulging in his final breath. He dropped the bandit's body to the ground and turned to Katara, who had a couple bandits against the ledge of the bridge.

Katara held her sword in hand, but she did not need it. Her weapon welled up inside her as she stared down the frightened but angry remaining bandits, their weapons outstretched and waved in his face. She felt its power radiate from within her gut and make its way into her throat.

"Fus...RO DAH!", she Shouted at the bandits. Each of them had eyes that widened and mouths that dropped split seconds before they were sent soaring off the side of the bridge, their collective cries and screams growing more silent by the second. Katara's breath came heavy in her chest, as it always does after she uses her Thu'um, she turned towards the other two.

The three of them looked out over the dead bodies strewn about the bridge in front of them. Fayleen fastened the staff to her back and climbed off her horse, stepping over the bodies and searching their pockets. Teldryn was a little short winded but he managed to let a throaty laugh escape.

"Gods, I haven't had a good bandit fight in ages.", he said as he stretched back his arms then placed his dagger back in his scabbard. "I told you we could handle anything that came our way."

Katara rushed to Valkyrie's side, lifting the brown blanket and refastening the Elder Scroll to his hide. She was grateful he hadn't run off during the scuffle but she couldn't take any more chances, he was more skittish than the other two steeds. "Let's just get off this thing, yeah?", she asked as she mounted him and looked over to Fayleen, who was holding up a fat sack of coin as she knelt over the bloody bandit chief.

Just then it got colder, the temperature dropped and they felt the wind pick up. It got colder and stronger to the point where it didn't feel natural. Fayleen and Teldryn rushed to their horses and they all steadied their footing on the bridge as the wind swayed them all over.

"Oblivion! What is this?", Teldryn hollered over the whipping winds, tightening the pelt over his head. Then they heard the shriek in the sky, the familiar one. It echoed even over the winds and Katara tried to follow its chilling roar in the snowy sky. They couldn't see it but they heard its flapping growing closer from overhead. It stopped briefly then they felt the bridge shake beneath them as something crashed up ahead on the snowy bridge.

The three of them readied their weapons as the crunching of ice and creaking if rock beneath them and ahead of them echoed. It was a dragon, no doubt. And they could feel its footsteps as it walked closer to their end of the bridge.

"Is that a...a...", Fayleen stuttered as the beast's figure began to take shape through the raging blizzard. It's head emerged first and Katara nearly fell off Valkryrie at the sight of his red head and blue protruding horns.

"Odahviing..." The words escaped out of Katara's mouth like a hush.

"Dovahkiin. Nii aan ol.", he bellowed softly from his gut. Katara jumped off her stallion and rushed towards the red dragon, who lowered his massive neck to meet her eye level.

Katara approached his snout and extended out her hand to run it over his scales. "I've been worried about you ever since I called upon you months ago.", she said.

She could hear his deep breathing in his massive chest. "Geh, it was not safe, Dovahkiin. I've been in hiding, waiting until I no longer could."

"Hiding where?"

His bulging yellow eyes looked into hers. "Your home - Solstheim. That's why I'm here."

Katara stepped back from him and looked up at him. "What about Solstheim? What is it, Odahviing?"

He was silent for a moment. "You should see, Dovahkiin...I've come for you."

His words hit her hard yet she stood frozen in place. She looked back to Valkryie, the Elder Scroll strapped to him. "Back to Solstheim?", she repeated to him. Its what she's wanted for so long, but now she was so close with the Scroll...

"There's someone you should meet, Dovahkiin...", Odahviing very plainly said, and with a seriousness in his deep bellow. Katara slowly turned her head to look at him, confused by his words. "He is known as Miraak."

*Windhelm*

He sat at the wooden table and picked at his chicken breast. With a side of grilled leeks and a cup of wine to wash it down it made for a nice meal. However Aventis felt as if he couldn't relax and enjoy it. All day he had been looking behind his shoulder. He drank entirely too much last night, he knew that and admitted the havoc it wreaked on his stomach played a part in his lack of appetite. He remembered everything he did last night in the secrecy of his bedroom, every detail. But had he done it wrong, the Black Sacrament? He knew he should be expecting a visit from one of their assassins to recieve their pay. From there the assassin would carry out the contract, or so Aventis read in the book last night.

He was sure he performed it right, the nerves of leaving for Fort Hoag in the morning built in him all day and made him question himself. No, he thought, he'd just have to trust in the Dark Brotherhood and their process. He'd done all he needed.

The music played at Candlehearth Hall, which was surprisingly crowded for tonight. Aventis somewhat enjoyed it, enjoyed being surrounded by a crowd that he could meld himself into. It was comforting, combined with the bard's lovely lute playing, Aventis found himself able to sit back in his chair, cutting a juicy chunk out of his chicken. Behind him he could hear conversations from the other patrons in the dining hall around him.

"There's been blizzards in Solstheim, holding up our shipments back and forth to the dreadful grayskin island.", one scruffy man said from the bar to another man. He was dressed like he worked on one of the ships down by the docks. The man adjacent to him scoffed and they drank together. A few seats down from them sat a girl, looking to be Aventis' age, wearing a creme colored maids dress that hung down to her feet.

"Did your aunt make it out of the College before the collapse?"

"We haven't heard from her, but she was always a fighter so we have faith she made it.", one man answered another's question on the other side of Aventis. The conversations weren't always cheery nowadays in Skyrim, what with the the return of dragons and the uncertainty of the war. But somehow Aventis was able to calm himself and take a smooth swig from his wine cup. Something caught the corner of his eye.

This time she was staring at him, the girl who looked his age at the bar. With her face to him Aventis could see her tan completion and high cheekbones. Her eyes were a lavender and they were shrouded beneath full dark lashes. Her hair was the color of chocolate, and it was held half up by a small iron barrette, the lower half hung just past her shoulders and curled up on the ends in a silky wave. Her lips curled into a smile as her eyes met Aventis'.

A warm feeling bubbled in his stomach, she was indeed beautiful. Aventis offered her a smile in return and he could see her white teeth. Then she surprised Aventis by swinging her legs around the side of her stool and hopping off, making her way through the crowd and towards his table. He straightened himself in his chair and took another quick sip of wine, emptying his cup.

"You look like the loneliest thing in this inn tonight.", the girl spoke very plainly as she approached. Her voice was sweet on his ears as he extended his hand in an invitation for her to sit down across from him. She obliged and sat down quietly.

"I prefer my own company over others.", he replied. "As you must as well, sitting by yourself over there."

She smiled. "You could say that."

"I haven't seen you around here before.", he led. He had been in Windhelm for a time now and hadn't gotten close to anyone, perhaps she had been around and he had been so unfortunate as to miss her in passing until now.

"I'm just passing through, making my way from here to there nowadays as needed.", she replied, her lavender eyes piercing his.

"As needed? Someone important, are we?", he asked coyly. The last bit of his wine had given him a surge of bravery, or stupidity, he couldn't tell which just yet.

She raised a brow sarcastically and offered him a giggle. "Depends on who you ask. Speaking of asking, you seem to have a lot of questions regarding a stranger you just met."

"Well, it was the stranger who approached my table.", he shot back with a glimmer in his brown eyes. She laughed, Aventis continued. "Traveling alone during this time is dangerous, you know."

Her brow furrowed and she cocked her head at his inquiry. "I know the danger that lurks out there in the wilds, probably more than you do I'd wager."

Aventis scoffed. "I've seen a dragon out there before.", he said as he leaned in with eyes wide, expecting her to gasp in amazement. Instead her eyes never left his as she leaned in as well, placing her dainty hands on the table.

"I've seen a lonely hunter in the woods one night, crunching his way through the dry leaves and pushing back the brush in his steps." Her voice was low, but Aventis stretched his neck for every word even in the crowded noisy inn. "He looks up at the moon, it's full and bright. The only light that guided his footsteps besides the torch in his hand. He hears a noise in the woods, the one he's been vying to hear since he ventured out there. The cracking of hooves against the ground, a fat deer in the clearing ahead of him. The hunter readied his bow and docked an arrow in its quiver, already tasting the juicy venison. He inched closer, watching his footing. There was something else in the woods with him, something deadlier though. He felt its small hands wrap around his shoulders, followed quickly by its teeth...a sharp pair of jaws that sunk themselves into the flesh on his neck, piercing his skin deeply. The poor hunter dropped his torch and staggered forward, grabbing his neck in a fit of fear. He spun around and tried to find the bear or sabrecat that had attacked him, but instead he was met with the beautiful soft face of a monster - a monster with eyes that glowed red in the flickering of the torch on the forest ground, and white fangs that dripped with his fresh blood. The beautiful face of the monster was the last thing he saw as his life was sucked out of him.", she finished with a little grin across her face, but a tone of seriousness in her sweet voice. Aventis almost trembled at her words, he was at a loss of what to say to this unexpected beauty and her dark words. The girl leaned back in her chair and took note of his frightened silence. She sighed.

"Since you're clearly lost, I guess I'll have to initiate. And here I expected livelier before I gave you my story. Pity. Do you have the coin or not, Aventis?", she added. Aventis sat up in his chair and stared at her for a split second with wide eyes.

"Wait - you, you're the - are you with the Brotherhood?", he asked her in a stutter and a whisper. She laughed out of annoyance.

"That's what you've been sitting here all night looking dreadful for, waiting on me, is it not?", she replied. "Now, do you have the gold?", she asked a little more seriously this time.

Aventis shuffled his hands into his pockets and pulled out a jingling coin purse, he felt the gold lumps in the bag and scooted it towards the end of the table where the girl sat. "You're just...not what I expected...at all.", he stammered softly.

"I know.", the girl tossed the coin bag in her hand then strapped it to her belt. She stood up from her seat and pushed her chair in. "Quite an advantage, wouldn't you agree?

Aventis lurched forward and grabbed her arm, startling her for a moment until he let go and used his words. "Wait, so you'll get it done? You know...get it taken care of in time?", he asked in a low voice up to her.

"It'll get done, young Aventis.", she replied surely. A confused look spread across his face.

"You can't be any older than I, who are you to call me young?"

"Oh, I can be much older than you, boy. It'll get done, don't worry your pretty head.", she cooed. The girl turned again to walk away but she heard Aventis' voice bellow from behind her once more.

"Can't - can't you least tell me your name?", he asked with a genuity in his voice. She did not look back to him, only cocked her head within his earshot.

"Babette."


	30. Thirty: The Prince of Apocrypha

Hi, y'all! Real quick, I'm sorry for not uploading any new content in a while. I've had a very eventful summer but I'm still very much into this story that I love chipping away at. I hope you enjoy this chapter and as always, thanks for reading!

Chapter Thirty: The Prince of Apocrypha

*Fort Hoag*

General Tullius slowly paced back and forth in his quarters, what was once the Captain's quarters. His armored footsteps lightly echoed off the stone walls of the old fort. On the wall just behind him hung the red banner of the Empire, in front stood his stretegy table, adorned with red and blue flags.

The General stopped for a moment and stared down at one of the blue flags, his eyes darting between it and a red flag, scratchinghis salt and peppered stubble. Echoing down the hall he could hear the clanking of armored footsteps growing nearer. Another one of the young soldiers wanting to know their post for the night, he thought, prepared to wave them away to Legate Rikke so he could concentrate.

The voice that boomed from the door was new but familiar. "Ah, I see you've gotten a head start.", Commander Pavo said as he approached the table from the door. General Tullius snapped his head up and a smile spread across his stern face.

"Pavo! It's good to see you again, friend. How long have you been here?", the General replied as the two men extended their hands in a shake.

"I've only just arrived. Rode through the night, no way I'm sleeping on a bed roll in the damn cold forest. The gates are well manned out there, I saw.", Commander Pavo observed as he looked down at the table and the flags. "Our forces greatly outnumber Ulfric."

The General nodded. "Indeed, however most shouldn't be needed."

Commander Pavo cocked his brow slightly. "What are your thoughts, General?", he asked curiously. General Tullius stood tall and placed his hands behind his back, looking down at the map.

"We outnumber Stormcloak forces greatly, as you mentioned." He gently picked up a single red flag and slid it across the map, away from where it sat over Fort Hoag and out onto the road. "I'd like to take a few good men and meet Ulfric and his caravans just shy of the fort, an ambush of sorts. We'll seize them there. Once Ulfric and his caravan have been dealt with, I'll take my men here from the fort and we'll begin our march on Windhelm, hitting all their forces and restoring Empire control over the city."

The Commander looked over the map and the flags at their points, he scratched his chin and General Tullius could tell his second in command was working the plan out in his mind. "It's a logical plan, I'd have to say. The element of surprise will be our advantage."

"Im glad to hear that you see it that way, too. Because I'd like for you to lead the detachment caravan to meet Ulfric on the road and bring him to his knees. I'll march on Windhelm once we recieve word he's been dealt with. He's to be brought back to Solitude - dead or alive.", the General added. Commander Pavo looked up at him and straightened himself in military fashion.

"It'd be an honor and a pleasure, sir.", he responsed professionally. "And if he surrenders?", he asked a bit tentatively. General Tullius looked away and gritted his teeth.

"We'll tell the High Queen that we gave him a shot to surrender...", he responded in almost a whisper. "There's only one true way to deal with men like Ulfric Stormcloak, you and I both know that.", he concluded with his knuckles on the table.

Commander Pavo nodded, silently understanding and agreeing with his superior. "And the Dragonborn should she be traveling with him...?"

"The High Queen wishes for the Dragonborn to be caught and brought to her - alive - should she interfere.", Tullius sharply responded with tight lips. "Your son, he's been keeping track of those two, no doubt?"

"Yes, Aventis has assured me that the Dragonborn plays no role in what Ulfric does, although she is to be considered an ally of his and I'm under the presumption to treat her as an enemy should she retaliate after Ulfric's defeat.", Commander Pavo replied dutifully. "Ulfric has chosen Aventis to squire for him on this excursion.", he added.

A small smile spread across the General's face. "I assume the lad is ready for a fight?"

Commander Pavo looked down and an audible sigh escaped his mouth. "A father can only hope so. But Aventis is...different. He aspires to be a man of war but I don't think the boy will ever become a man. He wasn't cut out for this life, but maybe seeing Ulfric fall will change his mind - maybe he'll grasp the meaning of what true honor is."

General Tullius nodded his head. "He'll be a war hero back in Cyrodil after all of this. The future looks hopeful for the lad, it looks hopeful for you too, Commander."

Again the sound of armored boots clanked down the stone hall. The two men awaited the figure to appear in the doorway, it was Legate Rikke. Her blue eyes were wide on her hardened tan face.

"General, Commander,", she remarked and lightly bowed to her superiors. "Our scouts twenty miles out report that Ulfric and his caravan made campfire just before nightfall."

There was a silent moment. It was on everyone's minds, the same thing.

"Twenty miles you say, Legate?", General Tullius finally spoke up. He glanced down at his map and eyeballed the circumference away from Fort Hoag. Rikke nodded silently.

General Tullius and Commander Pavo met eyes. The faintest of smiles on the Commander's face was all the agreement that Tullius needed.

*Solstheim*

The air felt familiar, it was that chilly nip that felt like a welcoming hug around her body. She could smell the sea, although she could smell it the entire flight over the Ghost Sea, it's salty air filled her nostrils as Odahviing zipped down into the clouds and the snowy, mountainous terrain grew closer in her vision. It was just as she left it - Solstheim.

Katara fought with her emotions, with herself. She was both upset with herself and even a little frightened. Parthurnaax gave her a mission, perhaps one of the most important tasks of her life, yet she could not ignore Odahviing's urgent advice. For months she had wondered about where the old dragon had flown off to, for months she worried for his life. He was of her blood and spirit, he couldn't not lead her astray.

Could he?

Though she felt compelled to heed his warnings - something in her very being drew her to it, and to her home.

Behind her Teldryn was clinging tightly to Fayleen, who seemed to doze off somewhere mid flight. Teldryn was wide awake, yet he never opened his eyes to look down. Both of them were melancholy upon climbing aboard Odahviing, they had no choice but to leave their beloved steeds behind. The three of them walked their horses to safety off of Cragwallow Pass, then they reluctantly cut the reigns and turned them loose into the wilds of Skyrim. Though none of them said it out loud, they all hoped their paths would cross with Valkyrie, Namiira, and Ashlander again someday. Katara felt Odahviing's bellow in his throat and for some reason she instinctively reached for the Elder Scroll strapped tightly at her back, assuring herself it was still there.

"Just over the ridge, Thuri!", he hollered loudly from his long neck ahead of them. The winds carried his voice and jolted Fayleen awake, she blinked her eyes a couple times and looked down, seemingly unphased by being in the air. Teldryn tightened his grip on one of the dragon's spiney scales as Odahviing dipped down and a mountainous ridge began to take shape below them. Katara had never been to this part of Solstheim, none of it looked familiar, yet she knew there was much she had yet to see. Her own backyard was still but a mystery to her.

Odahviing gracefully flapped his wings and his whole body lowered to the snowy ridge beneath them, kicking up flurries amongst the pine trees that surrounded them. Katara stretched her leg to dismount the dragon but she was stiff from remaining stationary for so long. She winced when both her feet hit the ground and mechanically straightened herself out. Fayleen crawled off next, followed by a shaky but relieved Teldryn.

Teldryn adjusted his red gloved gauntlets and peered around him. "Well, I never thought I'd set foot back here again.", he admitted bitterly with a shiver. Katara looked around her and did not recognize her surroundings. The forest floor was covered with rocks and boulders adorned with snow that accumulated atop them and green vines that wrapped their way around them. It was desolate, cold, and unfamiliar. She didn't know how far the village was from here, or why Odahviing brought them to this trenched forest of Solstheim.

"Odahviing, you said there was a person I needed to see - Miraak. Why are we here? Where is he?", Katara started as she turned to face the dragon. He spun his large torso around and purred in his throat.

"Geh, he is here, Dovahkiin. But will you truly seek him out?", he replied with a roll of his tongue.

"I don't have time for illusions and mind games, Odahviing. I'm carrying what could be the most valuable item in all of Tamriel and - "

Odahviing perked his head up at the sight in her arms. He stretched his long neck and leaned his head down, peering at its golden pommels closer. For a moment he looked impressed - but only for a moment. "You believe the Elder Scroll is what holds the most value?", he asked her very quietly and genuinely, his large blue eyes scanning the item in her hands. Katara was at a loss of words for a moment, she was unsure how to answer his inquiry. "You think your power comes from ancient texts?", he added with soft pretentiousness.

Katara looked down at the Elder Scroll then back up at Odahviing. He took her off guard, for a moment she couldn't tell if this was the same Odahviing she had met. Yet again, she had to remind herself that it was not long ago since Odahviing was loyal to Alduin.

Words caught in her throat, Katara replied. "Parthurnaax and the Grey - "

"Geh, Parthurnaax...", he interrupted. For some reason it sent a chill down her spine. "A wise fool, if there ever was such a thing. Your power does not come from Parthurnaax, not from any cult like the Greybeards, and not even from your Thu'um - but from you, Dovahkiin."

Katara stared into his massive icy blue eyes. She searched her mind a mile a minute for the right answer, the answer that would make her sound brave and full of valor, but all that escaped her mouth was the utter truth of what she was feeling.

"But I am not powerful without my Voice..."

Odahviing's nostrils flared and he blinked slowly. "Your Thu'um is part of you, but it is not what makes you Dovahkiin." His gaze dropped to meet her eye level. "You were taught the Thu'um by mortal men...but you were born with the blood of a Dovah."

The rare feeling reared its head in her gut - pride. She squeezed the golden jewel crested pommels of the Elder Scroll and looked upon its length. Teldryn and Fayleen stood behind her, listening intently and shivering from the cold.

Odahviing spoke to her a final time. "If it's what you truly want, Dovahkiin, open your Scroll here and now and learn what you need to destroy Alduin, then rush to reclaim Skyrim. You have not any need for the Greybeards." She felt the air around her reverberate with the deep bellow of his throaty voice. "But if you want to know more about what it means to be born of the blood of a Dovah, to truly be a Dragonborn, then it is Miraak you must seek."

With that, Odahviing stomped his way over to one of the larger rocks. He nudged it with his tail, a simple feat for him but a powerful thud to the boulder. Snow shook and fell from it, revealing a stone door carved into its surface. It took the three of them by surprise as they each stood and looked at the hidden door for a moment.

Katara looked at the door and then down at the Elder Scroll clasped tightly in her hands. She inhaled and exhaled the cold air, the same air that she knew as home. She gently reached behind her and slid the Elder Scroll back into the case that was strapped tightly at her back.

*Somewhere in the Eastmarch hold*

He bleakly looked down at the metal flgaon in his hand. The fire-warmed ale in his mug stared back at him, and although foamy and soothing in the bitter winter, it made his stomach knot even more. He swished it around, giving it a second thought, before finally bending down and setting the mug in the snow. Aventis sighed and leaned back against the tree. Several feet away sat the chatter of the Stormcloak soldiers. Ulfric was telling stories and passing time with his men, Galmar sitting next to him and occasionally lifting his ale to his lips. For the first time he truly looked at the man. Galmar wore the infamous bear pelt of every Stormcloak, though unlike most soliders, he reserved the head of the bear. He wore it proudly stop his head, the fangled jaws and tuft ears hooding his black short hair. It made Aventis wonder what the valiant second in command would do should his services be required in battle - or to protect Ulfric, the man he's sworn his steel to. Then again Aventis had to remind himself that the two of them had probably done their fair share of fighting in the years since passed, and during this war that Ulfric sparked. Galmar bravely and with great zeal followed his best friend into the unknown, as any ideal second in command would.

He knew Galmar would not hesitate to stick a sword into Aventis' gut should he need to.

The whole scene played out bleakly in his mind, Aventis knew Galmar would rush to defend Ulfric when Imperial and Stormcloak men began swinging steel at one another. Having spent time with both men, Aventis could attest that Ulfric and Galmar were both battle ready and armed to the teeth with knowledge and battle prowess. He knew that his father and the General had to be on their sharpest, with their best men, to take the Bear down.

But that was the other realization, the final cause of his weariness and nausea, his father. He knew his father would expect Aventis to pick up his sword and fight for the Legion, for his Empire. Knowing how honorable the man could be, Aventis wouldn't even be surprised if the Commander forced his own son to deliver the final blow to Ulfric Stormcloak. The thought made the teen's stomach churn even more. He left from the tree he leaned against and weakly carried himself into the forest, away from the campfire. Aventis fell into the trunk of another large tree, grappling at the brittle bark around its girth to steady himself as he doubled over. Saliva pooled at the corners of his dry mouth, his throat swelled, and he focused on a patch of the snowy forest floor and awaited the vomit that swirled in his gut.

But what if she gets to him in time, the small voice of hope whispered to him in the darkness. The assassin for the Brotherhood, Babette. Her tan face flooded his fuzzy mind for a moment. What if she took care of Commander Pavo in time, like she said would, Aventis asked himself. Suddenly the bile in his throat receded a bit with the faint flame of hope growing. She was the expert after all, he reminded himself. It was a fact that he still couldn't wrap his brain around, a girl no more his age and beautiful as ever.

Aventis wearily rose to his full stature once more, his dry heaving ceased but his anxiety still tugged at him. He stared deeper into the forest, it was pitch black ahead of him. Behind him he could faintly hear an occasional laugh from one of the Stormcloak soldiers, along with a hazy glow of their campfire. He reached up and wiped a bit of saliva that had pooled at the corner of his lips with the back of his sleeve. For a moment the thought crossed Aventis' mind that he could slip away into the forest for good and not a soul would see him do it. He had no idea where he'd go exactly, how he'd even find a way out of the woods, but if just for a moment the scheme tempted and teased him.

Instead, he returned to the fire and took a seat quietly on a small patch of empty log. There were conversations going on around the campfire, then Aventis felt a nudge on his arm and looked to find a soldier with his mug outstretched to him.

"Fetch me some mead, squire boy.", he instructed sourly. Aventis looked at the mug then back up at the soldier's burly face. He was a rugged man who donned a scruffy patchy beard and had dark set eyes. Aventis was in no mood to play squire boy, he was tired of pretending.

He gently pushed the mug away from him and hung his head. "Fetch it yourself.", he muttered under his breath but just loud enough for the solider to notice. Next Aventis felt the shift of the weight amongst the logs and saw the Stormcloak rise to his feet, slowly at first.

"Didn't catch that, boy.", he emphasized angrily. His nostrils flared and brow furrowed. A hush fell upon the crowded huddle of men, only the fire cracked the chilly night air. "You'll need to speak up for our battle wrought ears.", he bellowed.

Aventis lifted his head from his slump and looked at the agitated soldier. He was at least twice the lad's size - and short with a temper. Yet despite all that, the teen was surprised to find himself unphased...numb. He was weary in every sense of the word. He had everything to lose and nowhere to go. It wouldn't have made much of a difference to Aventis if the man hauled off and landed a punch to his face at this point.

"I said...'Fetch it yourself'.", Aventis repeated with a deliberacy. He felt all eyes fixated on him, but he could only look into the man's. That set him off, the solider threw his arms into the air and sent his mug crashing to the snow floor.

"A milk drinking Squire child like you shouldn't talk to your elder like that. Let's see if you can back up your talk with steel - ", the solider said as he reached for the shiny axe sheathed at his hip, drawing it and beginning to move forward when Ulfric's voice boomed from the far side of the circle.

"Enough.", Ulfric's voice demanded, sternly but not harshly. Aventis flinched in his seat at the soldier but never took his eyes off him, he saw Ulfric gracefully stand up and eye the two of them closely. The Stormcloak solider gritted his teeth but obeyed his Jarl as he lowered his weapon. Ulfric stepped closer. "We already face Imperial troops armed to the teeth on the other side of the country, let's not rage amongst ourselves either.", he said plainly. "You treat your fellow man with respect, regardless if he's a squire or a captain."

The disgruntled Stormcloak placed his axe back into its sheath and took his place back down on the log. His eyes were glared but they stared into the fire. Ulfric looked down at Aventis.

"Even a squire is worthy of a place in my kingdom...and my respect.", he said with a hint of a smile. He then turned to face the crowd of quiet soldiers, bid goodnight to them, and turned to walk towards his tent. The disgruntled Stormcloak muttered things under his breath but once again the chatter picked up and Aventis was no longer bothered by the man.

It was such a simple comment, the one that Ulfric made, but for some reason it stuck to Aventis like sap on a pine tree. It spoke to him, inspired him even, in a way that he had not yet known before. It was then, within the blink of an eye and without a second hesitation, that he made the decision.

Tomorrow when they reached Fort Hoag, regardless if his father still had his life by then, Aventis would draw his steel and fight alongside Ulfric Stormcloak. If he were to die, he would do so with pride.

But it was then that Aventis heard the snap of a branch in the forest depths behind them. He wasn't the only one to hear it, one by one the soldiers quieted. And one by one the snapping became more frequent and louder.

The sound became familiar then. It had a faint clanking noise crunching with the snow.

It sounded like footsteps closing in on them.

Aventis' heart sank into the depths of his soul.

*Solstheim*

The three of them tip toed down the tunnel, if one could even call it such. It was dark and cold, their breaths could be seen. Katara led the way with a torch in her hand. She was surprised, all of them were, to find the tunnel they were venturing through was no more than a crawlspace. There was no light, barely any room to move, and vines infesting their way onto the walls and. It looked as if there had been no activity here in ages, if ever. Katara wondered just how in Oblivion one could survive down here. She had yet to even see a skeever. She questioned why Miraak would be down here.

And why he was in hiding...

"I always wanted to visit Solstheim.", Fayleen started to say, her torch scanning the surfaces in front of her footsteps. "But I pictured it to be a bit more...pleasant."

"The southern half of Solstheim is.", Teldryn answered almost longingly. "A quaint town by the name of Raven Rock sits at the shores, that's where I've spent the past few years. Might I suggest seeking passage out of Raven Rock by boat instead of dragon next time?", he called to Katara ahead of them with with a crankiness in his voice. Katara only shrugged off his disdain and pressed on, her torch waving carefully back and forth as they stepped.

Teldryn sighed dramatically but even he knew he was being whiny. He shifted focus. "Do you know anything about this Miraak fellow, Kat?", he asked tentatively.

It took her a second to answer. She truly did not know anything about the man she was crawling through dark tunnels in search of. The thought made the anxiety in the pit of her stomach grow even more. Katara answered as honestly as she knew how, stopping and turning around to face Teldryn and Fayleen.

"No.", she replied. "But I know that he has to be important...he has to have answers."

Her two companions nodded their heads in an understanding of her answer. They had followed her into the unknown a dozen times before, and they would do it a dozen times more. Katara turned and the three began walking again.

"Odahviing said that Miraak can help you understand what it means to be a Dragonborn, maybe he's a scholar of sorts?", Fayleen chimed in.

A teacher, Katara wondered. Deep down that's what she hoped for. She wanted guidance, though she was unsure how anyone could possibly differ from the Greybeards and Parthurnaax - what could set him apart from them, what could make Miraak someone so important.

"Maybe.", Katara hopefully replied, though deep down she was frightened, and the dingy crawlspace that they trekked through only made it worse. Though it wasn't much longer until they spotted light coming from ahead of them.

"Look...", Fayleen pointed it out. The three of them walked faster to the light at the end of their tunnel. Then they heard a distant sound that grew nearer - rushing water. It was coming from the direction of the light.

Cautiously but with urgency they moved closer until they came to the end of their tunnel, connecting to a bigger one that carried rushing water out to end where the light shone. The three of them stared down at the rapid stream of drainage and then back at each other.

Katara knelt down and extinguished her torch in the water, as the light from the end of the tunnel now provided enough. The three of them moved alongside the narrow edges of the tunnel where the water could not reach and sweep them away. "Looks like this might lead us to an end.", Katara said with a pep in her tone.

"I should hope so.", Teldryn remarked as they tiptoed along the edges to the light growing more clear. "I can't imagine why someone so important would live somewhere...", he started to add but was having trouble finishing as they finally came to the end of the tunnel. "...so...drab..."

Every one of them lost the words in their mouths at the sight before them. When they emerged at the end of the tunnel they were awestruck at pristinly carved ruins, light fixtures on skyline ceilings and walls that were made of elk horns and big game bones, staircases in every direction - all below and above them with a depth enough to fit the entire town of Riverwood in.

It was nothing short of a temple fit for a King.

Fayleen was the first to speak, as she always was in her child-like wonderment. "Well, I'd say that we were on the right track.", she noted looking around the temple before them with her mouth hung slightly agape.

"Then let's keep going.", Katara started. Her eyes searched the large room and found a large pair of iron doors adjacent to them. There were distinct carvings only on those doors that she could see, they were larger than the others. "That door over there.", she pointed out to them. The three of them exercised caution while climbing down from the drainage tunnel and dropping onto one of the staircases.

They made their way further into the temple, admiring the walls and crypt-like architects around them. They passed by rooms that were lined with tables and carved chairs, and upon those sat fine china and candles. Curiously, they poked their heads into one room that was filled with urns and stone carved baskets.

Fayleen walked over to a shelf and picked up an urn before shoving her nimble hand into it and fishing around. She gasped, almost giggled, and Katara and Teldryn found her wide eyed and beaming with a handful of shiny jewels.

The sight even stunned Katara and Teldryn, though Teldryn snapped out back quickly to scold her endearingly. "Put those down, woman. We're here for help...not to get caught and killed."

Katara nodded in agreement, although she knew Teldryn was just as giddy about seeing them, even she herself was. "Stealing from Miraak probably wouldn't be a very good way to make a first impression.", she noted. Fayleen pandered a smile and placed the urn back on its shelf, Katara smiled back but deep down her questions about Miraak only grew. Why would a man of wealth and luxury be in hiding? What could he want with her?

They turned a corner and began their ascent up the staircase that led to the large iron doors. The closer they got Fayleen's eyes widened at the carvings that appeared in her vision. She reached up and proded the green amulet at her throat. She immediately recognized the dragon-like serpents that were artistically sculpted into the door...the same serpents that resembled those on the Dragon Priest amulet. She pointed it out to Katara and Teldryn.

Between the vast and elaborate temple, the treasure rooms within, the matching Dragon Priest markings, and the secrecy that tied it altogether...the three of them stared up at the door with numerous questions, concerns, and curiosities of what lies behind it. Katara took a deep breath and pushed it open, but what lie behind the doors took her breath away once more.

The three of them stared down a long hall, a hall the length of many throne and trophy rooms that filled palaces of kings. It was dark and not a sound could be heard...

Until they inched their way down the length of the room. Only then did torches ignite large floor to ceiling pillars alongside the length of the hall. It took them by surprise and Teldryn instinctively drew his sword.

"Step lightly.", he began, looking around the room. "Whoever this Miraak is...he knows we're here, and he wants us here."

Her best friend's expertise confirmed a anxious feeling that brewed in her gut. Katara unsheathed her skinny sword soon after, as did Fayleen her bow.

The further they tip toed in, the more they got a glimpse of who this man was. Adorned on the walls, set back from the isle and glowing from the lit pillars, were the skulls of dragons - actual dragon skulls. They were large in width with their sharp cheeks chiseling a protruding fangled snout. Each of them massive, taller than two or three people. The three of them admired the dozens that lined the walls down the room.

Katara walked up to one of them, the torches light flickering upon its off white bone. She had seen the beasts up close, smelled their hot breaths, but seeing their large boney jaws hung agape was a new feeling.

"How is it that I've never known this place existed on my island?", she asked to no one in particular as she joined the others again and continued their way down the hall.

"It is rather hidden.", Fayleen pointed out.

"Yes, someone doesn't want to be found...", Teldryn still cautiously remarked.

"You're right, Teldryn.", an unfamiliar and new voice broke from the end of the hall at the top of a large staircase that led up to another door. He began his walk down down the staircase and the three of them were frozen, weapons still drawn, as they took in the sight of him. The torches alongside the stairs began to ignite with every step down he took, illuminating a man who was built tall and sturdy with broad shoulders and lean torso. He wore brown pants that were pressed and parachuted out slightly from his feet, which were cloaked in golden armored boots. A fine leather vest the color of emerald green covered his torso, matching green sleeves running over his arms. Wrapped around his forearms they could see he had bangles and bands that were made out of dragon bones. It looked as if the spine of one of the creatures lined the man's arms. Resting on his shoulders were more dragon bone, these pieces were sharper and acted as armor. A gold belt tied at his waist resemeld an open book with a flaming sword through it. But what held him altogether was the helm that covered his face entirely. It was gold as ever and resembled a kraken, a deep sea dwelling creature that children's stories were written about. Long tentacles firmly hung down from the face to the top of his chest. Shorter tentacles at the top of helm reached upwards towards the sky, framing a long face with two eyeholes that dipped inwards in a sinister glare. The mouth was not hollowed out, but rather carved to give the kraken a tight mouth, although his speak was not impaired by it. He was clear as ever when he finally reached the bottom of the stairs and stood in front of the three of them.

"Yet here you've found me.", he finished.

Katara straightened herself to appear more formal, though she did not budge on the weapon in her hand. "Are you...Miraak?"

He reached his hands up to the helm. "Yes, I am." Gently he pulled up and the mask slipped off his head. Underneath was the slender face of a man no older than Ulfric. His jaw was chiseled and shadowed slightly by a dark brown stubble. It matched his dark brown hair that was cut neat just above his ears and resting neatly on his forehead. His brow was straight and they shrouded a pair of green eyes, green enough to match his robes. A handsomely pointed nose sat above thin pink lips. "And you're Katara."

She was surprised, she admitted to herself. He took her off guard. But she lowered her sword and stuck it back into its scabbard. Looking back at Teldryn and Fayleen she nodded, they did the same.

"How do you know me?", she asked him with genuine eyes. "And...just who are you?", she added, emphasizing the skulls in the room around them.

Miraak lightly smiled. "I am the Prince of Apocrypha."

"Apocrypha, what's that?", she replied.

"In time I will show you.", he answered plainly. Katara's questions only grew within herself.

"Then why am I here, Miraak...why was I advised to seek you out?"

Miraak waltzed over to one of the dragon skulls adorned on the wall. He looked up at it, feeling the stares of the three of them at his back. "Because you and I are not so different, Katara." Slowly he turned to face them, mainly her, when he answered. "You see, I'm also Dragonborn."

Katara was taken back, though her heart skipped a beat, almost wanting it to be true. "I don't understand, you're born with the blood of dragons too?"

Miraak nodded. "A gift from the gods...same as you."

Katara was still trying to make heads of it. "I thought the last Dragonborn died thousands of years ago...", she both asked and informed. She took a step closer to him, as if to get a better look. He was a younger man, one could easily tell. "How old are you?"

Miraak feigned her innocent ignorance with a smile. "Thousands of years old.", he replied. "It's not magic or sorcery, but the power of the one true Hermaous Mora."

Teldryn stepped forward now. "Wait a moment, I've heard of Hermaous Mora.", he piqued. "What would you have to do with a daedric prince?"

"Again, in time you will find out.", was all Miraak answered with a level voice. "There are more important matters at hand - "

"Like why in Oblivion we are here.", Katara interjected. Miraak's interrupted words stifled in his throat and he only smiled. She was never more serious.

"You've come for my help.", he said as he stepped closer to them. "The World-Eater comes, and you need my help."

Katara's stomach dropped. "You know of Alduin?"

He stepped closer to her. She could now smell him, like a fine perfume. No dirt on his pale face, no stench of the outdoors, not a tear in his green robes - nothing about Miraak resembled a fierce dragon slayer. "Every living being in all of Nirn should know the terror that is Alduin.", he said almost in a whisper. For a moment Katara detected seriousness in his voice instead of pretentiousness, a fearful undertone if she could guess so boldly.

"Are you going to...help me defeat him?", she asked. He ever so lightly shook his head.

"I can only teach you, I cannot stick my own blade into the World-Eater's throat. The wheel of time has turned upon you, Katara. You are the one prophecied."

His knowledge of her both threw her off and impressed her, yet she knew so little of what seemed to be the only remaining Dragonborn besides her. She searched her mind for words.

"How - how can we start?"

"By allowing me to show you something first. Follow me.", he motioned his hand upwards as he walked over to the staircase once more and began he graceful climb up. Katara exchanged a look with Teldryn and Fayleen and the three of them followed him with cautious feet.

When they came to the top, Miraak pushed open the large doors. A rush of cold air hit them, followed by the chilly wind that was the essence of Solstheim. Katara squinted but when she gained her vision she saw the familiar gray skies and blanket like clouds that hovered overhead. In front of her and all around was the steady rain of snow flurries. Miraak walked out onto a stone balcony, it was lit but barely. He walked further and further to its edge. Katara followed him until he stopped and took his place. She joined his side, in awe at the sight. They were practically standing in the edge of a mountain. Her eyes scanned the horizon and her heart jumped out of her chest when she saw it - her village. Every house stood as she remembered it, but there were no Skaal, no lights flickering in the windows, no fires burning in front of the Great Hall. It just looked like a gray wooden blot on a map.

Katara audibly let a gasp escape her and she even lurched forward for a moment, as if starting to run for her home and realizing how restricted she was atop what seemed to be the tallest mountain in Solstheim.

"That's - that's my home.", she said breathlessly. A single tear rolled down her cheek. "I truly didn't think I'd ever see it again."

"You miss it very much, I can imagine.", Miraak said. He didn't need an answer. He let her stare at it for a silent moment.

Anger welled up inside of Katara, she remembered the letter she recieved from Freya. She remembered her friend's concerns for the villagers. She clenched her teeth and squinted to hold back tears.

"Alduin...", she started. "He's doing something dark, something wicked to my people down there. He's toying with me.", she finished with a croaky voice.

"Alduin is doing no such thing.", Miraak simply responded. "I am."


	31. Thirty-One: He Smiled

Chapter Thirty-One: He Smiled

She was sure she heard him incorrectly, that the words he spoke were not true. She turned around and faced him, her watery eyes glared up at him.

"What are you talking about?", she asked, her voice trembling with anger. Teldryn heard everything and braced his hand on the pommel of his jagged dagger, he watched the two of them closely.

"Your ears do not deceive you.", Miraak answered her. "It's not the power and might of Alduin, it's me."

That was enough for Katara. In a flash she grabbed the skinny sword off her back and lunged at Miraak, who stepped aside as swift as the wind and allowed her to push right past him and into Teldryn. Teldryn grabbed Katara by her arm and wrapped himself around her, restraining her to the best of his abilities. Fayleen stepped back but drew her bow and raised it, aiming her sights down for Miraak. The man did not move.

"Why, Miraak? What have you done to my people?", Katara screamed at him, her face turning red as she kicked and squirmed in Teldryn's firm grasp. "Let go of me!"

Miraak seemed unphased by the commotion, though he saw the pain in her eyes. "I had to get your attention, Dragonborn. I needed you to find me.", he answered, honesty in his voice that even Katara could detect.

She stopped kicking and fighting Teldryn and went limp, her breathing heavy and tears still rolling down her tan cheeks. "But why this way...", she quietly asked, hanging her head.

Miraak stepped his way closer to her, he got close to her and Teldryn almost seemed to tighten his grip around Katara, his eyes glared at the man. The arrow in Fayleen's quiver was pointed at Miraak as Teldryn spoke up. "Watch your distance.", he lowly warned.

Miraak took one small step backwards, he knew he had just made enemies of them all. "It can be fixed, Dragonborn.", he spoke to her gently. She looked up at him. "I will fix it.", he repeated deliberately.

Teldryn remained quiet and awaited Katara's delayed answer. "But what?", she demanded. Miraak looked puzzled for a split moment. "There's more...", she remarked once more.

"You allow me to help you, Katara."

"And if I don't allow it, are you really going to let us just walk out of here, Miraak?", she asked. Miraak looked back down the mountain, he gazed at the village resting silently on the snowy ground.

"She asked you a question...", Fayleen added through gritted teeth, the arrow in its quiver trembling lightly from the resistance of her pulled back arm.

Miraak took his time answering the question when he turned back to face them. "I'm afraid that you don't want to opt for leaving.", he said poised. It was an elegant threat. Katara felt Teldryn tighten his clench around her shoulders. Fayleen had enough and she stepped past the two of them and faced Miraak, aiming her sights straight down the middle of his head. There was a brief moment of uncertainty on his face as she was just inches from him, though Miraak never flinched.

"You have some balls talking to three armed strangers like that.", the firey Breton herself warned.

Miraak scanned all three of their angry faces before answering. "I could strike all three of you down right now before you'd even know it.", he said in a voice so low it was almost a growl. Fayleen went to open her mouth but then Miraak's eyes went wide and he spoke before her.

He reached his hand out to her, but she pulled away. "That amulet at your neck, w-where did you get that?", he asked her seriously.

Fayleen chose her next words carefully, she lowered the bow slightly. "It was a gift.", was all she replied. Miraak wanted to say more, they could tell words were on the tip of his tongue, but Katara interjected.

"So we're your prisoners...", she said.

"Guests.", he replied rather quickly. "My honored guests." The three of them glared at him angrily. "I promise that your travels here were not in vain, Katara. I know it doesn't seem like it, but the prophecy brought you to me." His words were sincere, Katara could pick up. "I advise that we all rest tonight. Tomorrow we should start training."

Katara let out a sigh, one of defeat and emotional exhaustion. She knew she didn't have much of a choice, for she feared for the safety of her people should she rebuke this unpredictable Last Dragonborn. Without a doubt she knew her two trusted companions would turn this lone man before them into tattered pieces of cloth, and they'd do it with smiles on their elven faces. But this was also a man whom housed dozens upon dozens of dragon skulls in a temple bigger than any kingdom the three of them had ever seen. Katara had a strong inclination to believe the polite threats of a man like Miraak.

She looked up to Teldryn, who still held her tightly in his grip. She ever so slightly nodded to him, and he knew what she was saying. He released her and Fayleen followed by lowering her bow fully, placing the arrow back into its holster. Katara straightened herself out and stood tall. She approached Miraak, getting so close to him again that she could smell him.

"You're a monster.", was all that she softly declared as she turned and began to walk away from him, back towards the large pair of iron doors and inside the temple. Teldryn and Fayleen quietly followed.

*Somewhere in the Eastmarch hold*

It was a sound that he knew would haunt him forever, should he make it that long. The footsteps cracking in the brush around them were the familiar armored steps he'd heard many times before as his father walked down the halls of their home back in Cyrodil.

"How long this time, Pavo?"

"A few months I'd wager. I should arrive in Bramil by nightfall tomorrow. I'll try to send a raven to you and the boy then but don't count on it."

"Just travel safely, you know how we worry for you.", he heard his mom reply to his father from the other room. "You should tell Aventis. I can't stand answering his pitiful face every time you have to leave.", she gently advised.

Aventis heard the clanking coming down the hall and he straightened himself in his bed. He wiggled under his sheets and pulled the covers closer to his chest, awaiting his father's shadow to emerge in the doorway. Instead the clanking waltzed right past his door, the shadows flickering against the candlelit hallway. Aventis was confused and curious. Peering over his bed, he pushed the covers aside as quickly as he could and bounded out of his room and down the hallway, his little bare feet carrying him too swiftly and landing him at the feet of his father.

Commander Pavo turned around and looked down at the young boy in his loose pajamas wrapped around his armored boots. He almost had to giggle.

Almost.

"Aventis, stand up straight and mind yourself.", he ordered softly but sternly. Aventis obeyed his father and pulled himself up, looking up at his father with expectant eyes.

"Where are you going, father?", he asked so softly it was almost a coo. Pavo knelt down and eyed his only son, who curled his little toes on the stone floor beneath them and looked up at his father with sleepy brown eyes.

"I'm going away for work for a while, son. The Empire needs my services.", he said in a voice no different than if he were talking to a colleague. Pavo Arentino saw his wife turn the corner of the hall and watch them. "You'll be the man of the house for a little bit. You'll have to take care of your mother, do you understand?"

Aventis nodded and he stared up at his father. The Commander gently smiled and placed his hand on his son's shoulder. "That's a good lad. Keep it up and one day you can help me protect all of Cyrodil - all of Tamriel. You can be strong and honorable too. Would you like that, Aventis?"

The boy's eyes widened and a slow smile spread across his face, his two front teeth missing. He nodded profusely and with excitement. It took Commander Pavo off his guard when his tiny son lurched forward and wrapped his lanky arms around his neck in a hug. Pavo glanced up and saw his wife smiling lovingly at the two of them. He wrapped himself around his boy, he was sure his armor was cold but the lad didn't seem to mind at all.

"I'll take care of mother. I won't let you down, father.", he heard Aventis say into his ear in the faintest and most sincerest of voices.

The men began to stand up from the campfire, worry and confusion on their faces now. They all reached for their weapons, which some kept on their backs and others at the scabbards strapped around their waists. The first shot was the quickest, Aventis heard it whir through cold air and the arrow's inertia ended when it found the collarbone of a Stormckoak. No quicker than the solider fell to the ground did the burly man who just berated Aventis speak up.

"Show yourself, cowards!", he yelled into the still dark treeline. The next arrow that shot from the depths of the pine trees found itself in his stomach. With a furious cry the solider was knocked down to the ground. Aventis rushed over to his side and knelt down beside the man. He saw the arrow had torn straight through his light armor and was lodged deeply in his gut. Blood was pulsating from the open wound and the soldier was stifling his groans every time he'd gingerly try to pry it out of him.

Aventis saw the color leave the man's face, he was fading fast. The Stormcloak kept darting his eyes between the arrow stuck in his abdomen and the teen, though he could not produce words, only stifled grunts of pain and agony. He looked into the man's eyes and knew he pleaded for help. Looking at the wound there was little chance he'd survive even with the arrow removed, with them being miles away from a town or city. Aventis stood up and looked over the burly soldier. He watched as the life drained from his eyes and the man took his last breath.

He felt no remorse.

"What in blazes is going on out here?!", Ulfric's voice suddenly boomed from behind them. The Jarl emerged from his tent and looked at the sight before him, two of his men lying dead on the cold ground and the rest feverishly looking into the dark treeline. Before the scene could register for him more arrows zipped through the trees, as if waiting on Ulfric's voice. Men began dropping, staggering to the ground. Ulfric pulled Chillrend from his back and Galmar lept into action.

Then Aventis saw the source of the clanking. Emerging from the tree line where arrows had been zipping from was dozens of armored men - all wearing the red of the Empire.

The Stormcloaks had no time to soak in the moment of being ambushed, they all flew into battle. Steel met against steel. Wooden shields clashed against iron. Blood began to spill as men from both armies fell.

Aventis was stuck in the place where he stood, as if the icy grip of winter itself kept him frozen there. He watched all around him as the fighting ensued, time slowed for him and he scanned the faces of the Imperial soldiers - no sign of him. The teen felt like he were almost in a dream...until he felt the cold iron slice his left arm.

Out of reaction, Aventis' right hand flew to cover his left arm. When he removed his hand and looked down he saw his own blood wetting his palm. The moment became real then, the sights and sounds and smells around him. The burning pain of an arrow that clipped his arm felt real as ever.

He looked up and found the face of the Imperial soldier who flung his arrow. Anger out of pain welled up inside Aventis, and his bloodied hand reached for the sword at his scabbard. With a cry of pain and fury, he lunged at the solider with his weapon sharp and ready. The two began swinging steel at each other. Ulfric, with a look of horror and anger in his chiseled face, began slicing his way through Imperial soldiers with Galmar close by his side doing the same.

The fighting lasted only a few moments, but it was bloody and chaotic. The only light provided to them was by the campfire that still crackled and flickered as if the men still sat comfortably by it and exchanged stories while they sipped their ale. Bodies now littered the snowy ground, both blue armors and red. No Imperial was left standing, and there were less than a handful of Stormcloaks who stood in their places - bloodied and catching their breaths.

Aventis pulled his sword out of the chest of the Imperial solider who shot him. He looked down at the body, his hands trembling his weapon, and his breath coming out in raggedy bursts of hot steam in the night air. It was his first kill. The blood that pooled around the soldier's body ran deep red, it almost appeared black in the moonlight against the white snow. His eyes were still peeled open, frozen in his final sights. Aventis was so engrossed by it, by the moment, that it took the shuffle of Ulfric's footsteps in the snow behind him for him to snap back to where he was.

Ulfric wearily shuffled around the dead bodies of his fallen men, Chillrend still clenched in his hands. The few who survived looked at themselves and each other for serious wounds and injuries. Galmar's face was twisted in anger and confusion. He threw his sword to the ground.

"Imperial bastards!", he screamed into the night air to no one in particular, spit flinging from his mouth. He stomped around the camp, yelling in fury at the sight around them. He was shaking from adrenaline and fury. Aventis was relieved to see Ulfric and the few soldiers still standing.

Until he realized something was terribly wrong.

Ulfric and his men were never supposed to walk away from this fight, Aventis knew the objective of the Empire, though he did not know they'd ambush them like this. Where was the General, he wondered with a twinge of anxiety in his stomach. Their small victory here felt bittersweet...and uncertain.

Ulfric looked down at one of of his dead men lying on the ground. "The Empire will pay for this...they'll regret the moment they ever poked the Bear.", he muttered through gritted teeth.

"Will we now?", the familiar voice spoke from the depths of the dark forest. His father's words sent a chill down Aventis' skinny spine. More cracking of twigs and crunching of armored boots in the snow could be heard coming towards them again. Slowly the red armors began appearing again through the treeline, just as many as the first, carefully inching their way closer to the campfire and towards the group of remaining Stormcloak soldiers - who were heavily outnumbered and battered. The Commander's men had crossbows pointed at their huddled group from every angle.

Then he saw his father emerge from the thicket. He was wearing his finest armor, an armor Aventis had seen him decorated in many times before. He was surprised to see him, and he was surprised by his own shock. He should've known not to count on the Dark Brotherhood. There was almost a smug look on his tan face. Ulfric met his eyes yet remained calm, though one could see his fists clenched around Chillrend tremble in sheer anger. Galmar stood quietly by his side looking like a rabid dog awaiting their owner's signal.

Commander Pavo scanned the ground around them and at the bodies littered around the fire. He almost nodded in approval. "It appears you're a bit short handed here, Ulfric."

Ulfric chose his words carefully, Aventis had never seen the man so mad before. He was a firey explosion waiting to be set off, yet he kept a level voice. "So this is what honor means to you, Commander?", he spoke. "Breaking a sacred truce and furthering the chaos in this land?"

Commander Pavo stepped a little closer. "Ah, the traitor lectures on about honor.", he said with a smug toothy grin. Then his eyes finally flicked to Aventis. "I see you've met my boy. The two if you have become close, so he tells me."

The words didn't register with Ulfric upon first hearing them, until his eyes looked over to Aventis. The teen had never seen such confusion and denial on one person's face. It was only when Aventis didn't protest the Commander's revalation did Ulfric seem to make sense of it. The Jarl's eyes were piercing the teen with blue anger and hurt. Shame welled up inside Aventis.

Galmar, however, understood it all. In the blink of an eye they saw him lurch forward and grab his fallen sword from the ground, the air around him moved as he shuffled into a stance. "I should've put you down like the welp you are weeks ago!", he yelled in fury as he lunged for Aventis, he saw the pointed edge of the blade set its sights for him. The teen had no time to react, but an Imperial soldier did as he released one readied bolt from his crossbow straight through the broad chest of Galmar Stone-Fist, stopping the man dead in his tracks.

Galmar fell to the ground with a hard thud. His death was as quick as the bolt that impaled him, blood painting the fur of his menacing bear pelt.

Time slowed once more for Aventis. Everything and everyone around him flew into motion again as Ulfric could no longer keep a level head. With angry tears streaming down his face he began slicing and swinging at every Imperial soldier that stepped his way with a weapon. What soldiers remained charged into battle once more. Chaos ensued, in a split moment Aventis made a snap decision.

He hastily grabbed the crossbow of a fallen Imperial...and he ran for the hidden treeline.

Ulfric Stormcloak fought harder and with more passion than he had in any other war in his life. He had no time to tend to his fallen friend, a brother. There was no time for mourning, no time for tearful hugging. Revenge fell upon Ulfric's sights. Revenge and Imperial blood.

In anger and fury the Jarl of Windhelm cut down every soldier that dare cross him, but what little men he had remaining began to fall too. The bloodied scene before them only unfolded to new horrors as the bodies stacked and littered the snowy floor. In truth, Ulfric barely recalled slicing his way through the Imperials - anguish and fury took its hold on him and never let go.

He felt a sharp bite in his side, a sensation he had never felt before. It stopped him in his tracks and he looked down to find a bolt protruding from the side of his abdomen. He screamed in pain as he plucked it from his body, the red of his blood staining his fine blue robes and running down the length of his waist. With a scream he landed one swift cut to the Imperial soldier who shot the bolt, killing him and sending his body to the ground in a haphazard lifeless fashion. When every last soldier had the air taken from their lungs, Ulfric let Chillrend slip out of his grip and out of breath, in tears, and bloodied he collapsed to his knees. He had successfully cut down a dozen or more Imperials on his own - yet in every way he knew he was defeated.

All that remained was Commander Pavo, who stepped his way over bodies and towards Ulfric. He scanned the area around them for a brief moment, looking for Aventis. Though his son's absence was not surprising to him in the slightest. The boy was weak, he knew it. The Jarl felt the warmth from the Commander's approaching body, he saw the shiny armored boots as they planted themselves in front of him. Next his felt the freezing tip of the sharp blade as it was gingerly pressed to his collarbone, blood still coating its steel still from his recent kills.

Ulfric wearily lifted his head and found himself staring down the chilled length of the Commander's sword. Holding its pommel at the end was the smiling face of a military man about to have the moment of his career. In his moment of defeat and vulnerability, the always fearless Ulfric Stormcloak offered him a small laugh from his croaky throat.

"General Tullius couldn't even finish me on his own, huh...", he remarked in a low voice.

"I was thrilled to take on the task myself.", Pavo replied back levely. There was a brief silence between the two men, the blade still poking Ulfric in his collarbone, just enough to cause discomfort.

"Not even going to give me a chance to surrender, Commander?", he asked him in a husky voice, one that accentuated his weariness and growing fatigue as the bitter winter air nipped at his open wound.

"You and I both know you're not a man of surrender, Ulfric."

For a brief moment a smile tickled the corners of his mouth. He thought of his great country, his proud land and people. He served them in his entirety and they reciprocated their service in return to him. He thought of Katara, the tan kissed beauty who stole his heart. He hated that he only admitted it as he was standing on death's doorstep. He had fallen for the woman who would save Skyrim, the true hero the people needed. She had brought him happiness. He smiled because he knew he'd soon be reunited with his father in Sovngarde, with Galmar.

He smiled because he knew that everything that happened was always for the people of Skyrim, for the land, and for his honor as a true Nord.

"Aye.", he spoke softly. "We both know."

He heard no further words as he hung his head, though he felt the icy blade prick into his flesh just a little harder. Then...a click.

Ulfric Stormcloak opened his heavy eyes and saw the Commander's feet still firmly planted in front of him. A single drop of reddish black blood fell and stained the ground in front of the man's armored boots. Another drop, then another, and another until Ulfric looked up to his face.

Lodged in the back of his skull and impaling his right eye was a long sharp bolt. It nested itself in his skull, his eye protruding out of its socket, his mouth quivering. His sword loosened in his grip and drooped before lazily falling out of his hand and onto the floor, followed soon by himself. The Commander collapsed to the ground in front of Ulfric, his armor clanking hard. Ulfric looked back up and met the eyes of Aventis, who slowly emerged from the treeline behind where his father stood, trembling with a crossbow clutched in his hands.

Ulfric stared at the teen for a moment, he slowly rose to his feet. Quietly he looked down at the lifeless face of the Commander. Bodies littered the ground around the two of them, and Aventis stood frozen, not dating to speak a word - not knowing what he should speak even if he could. Ulfric wearily shuffled around the bodies of Stormcloaks, looking them over and taking in the sight. Solemnly he inched closer to Galmar's body, his dark skin now covered in a thin layer of snow flurries and ice. The pool of deep red blood around his torso thickening from the cold. Silent tears began rolling down Ulfric's cheeks, tears of pain and anger and sadness. Another mute moment passed between them in the silent night of the winter forest.

"Run, Aventis.", Ulfric said without even turning to face the boy. His voice was low and weak, but it was deliberate and serious. "Or I will finish what Galmar started.", he finished with a tight mouth.

He heard clanking behind him, the sound of something dropping into the snow. Ulfric waited a moment before he wearily turned around. The crossbow was lying on the forest floor, and Aventis was nowhere in sight. The throbbing pain at his side grew.

Aventis ran through the depths of the forest like he never had before. The series of events that unfolded back at the campfire felt like a clear blurr, if one could call it such. His heart was beating out of his chest, both from adrenaline and sprinting over twigs and rocks and ducking under branches. He felt as if he were out of his own body, watching himself run to nowhere in particular through the dark woods. The only light this far out was the dimly lit moon that casts its luminous softly on the pine trees.

He didn't know where he'd go. The Empire would seek him out, Ulfric would kill him. He had nothing left to lose, nothing to gain. He didn't know why he was still alive. He didn't know if he wanted to be alive.

Just then his foot caught on a rock and Aventis was flung forward into a thick low laying branch, his nose connecting with the wood with a loud crack. His vision blurred and consciousness escaped him as he hit the cold ground in the dead of night.


	32. Thirty-Two: Knowledge is Indeed Power

Chapter Thirty-Two: Knowledge is Indeed Power

*Solstheim*

"And you're sure about this, Kat?", Fayleen asked genuinely.

"I'm sure. It's the only way.", Katara replied. The three of them were walking down a long stone hallway that led out from their bed chambers. They had taken Miraak's warnings and stayed the night in his temple, their accommodations nothing short of royalty. Their beds were large and soft, and there was art that decorated the walls elegantly.

But none of them wanted to be there, Katara mostly. She didn't like dealing with someone so powerful...and unpredictable. Someone who did dark and wicked things to her people, it made her uneasy in her gut. She felt real fear. Yet she felt she had no other choice. And more importantly she had to be strong like the Dovahkiin she was.

They approached the large iron doors and pushed them open, staring down the staircase leading down into the room of dragon skulls. Miraak, who was waiting for them at the bottom admiring one of the skulls, heard the door and turned to greet them.

"Dragonborn, I trust the three of you slept well?", he asked casually. When he spun around they could see Miraak now donned a weapon in his scabbard - a majestic green sword, almost scythe like, woven vines together to form a very sharp and thin point. Katara had never seen a weapon like that anywhere else, Miraak's was custom.

They did not answer as they made their way down the stairs and approached him at the bottom. Katara stopped at the last step, once she was level with him, and stared at him for a good moment.

"I need to know everything before we begin."

"What do you mean by 'everything'?", Miraak responded curiously. Katara looked back to Teldryn and Fayleen and gave them a quick and very subtle nod. In a flash Katara reached for Miraak, who was almost just as quick putting his hand on his sword, and pushed him to the ground. The sound of Teldryn's sharp dagger could be heard as he drew it and grabbed the back of Miraak's neck, driving him into the staircase. He knelt down with him and held the blade to his throat. Miraak's face was twisted in genuine worry and shock and his weapon dropped to the ground. Fayleen drew her rose staff and used it to slide his eerie scythe away from him.

"Agh! What are you doing?!", he hollered out. He could feel Teldryn's wide hand clasped around the nape of his neck, and the jagged edges of his of blade gleaming under his chin. Behind him he heard Katara speak up.

"No more games, Miraak. You have me here, this is what you wanted. If you want us to stay...and if you want to keep your life...then you'll tell us everything.", she spoke sternly. There was a brief silence as Miraak remained shoved into the stairs.

He sighed heavily with defeat and reluctantcy. "Alright."

Teldryn released his grip on the man and Miraak slowly felt his hands along the stairs and turned around to face them, remaining seated. He was met with Teldryn's dagger and Fayleen's staff aimed at him, Katara standing tall in between them with expectant eyes.

"Where do you want me to begin, Katara?", Miraak asked with a slight annoyance in his voice. Katara looked around the room, up at the dragon skulls.

"You say you're a Dragonborn like me. How can I be certain?"

Miraak lowly laughed. "You think those things jumped on the walls themselves?", he remarked in reference to the skulls.

"Anyone can kill a dragon...", Katara started. "If they're strong and smart enough. That doesn't make one a Dragonborn."

"I was more than just Dragonborn.", he answered with a deeper longing trailing in his voice.

Katara cocked her head. "Was?"

Miraak met her eyes and fell silent for a moment, then he cautiously reached up to his throat and pulled out a necklace. The pendant was hidden beneath the color of his green robes, but when it was revealed they could see it was the same emerald as Fayleen's amulet - donning the same intertwined serpents. He unchained it from his neck and extended it out to Katara. Fayleen stepped closer to eye it, her hand instinctively prodding at the one at her neck.

"You were a Dragon Priest...", Fayleen murmured in disbelief. Miraak was silent as he watched the three of them admire it.

"Yes, I was.", he finally started. "I'm from a time when dragons ruled over mortals." The sentence sent sent chills down their spines. "I was chosen by the dragons, just like the other Priests, to rule the people and the land. I was the leader of the Dragon Cult...the most powerful among them.", he said with a deeper pride in his voice.

Miraak went into greater detail about who he was, leaving the three of them in awe with their jaws hung agape. He told them about being able to speak Dov with the dragon overlords, and how he was chosen as a vessel between the winged rulers and the mortal people. He recounted the council he sought with the dragons, the feeling of power and pride that they bestowed upon him. Katara resonated with that feeling, she was perhaps the only other living person who had conversation with the dragons, who felt their power coursing through her veins.

Miraak held out his arms, beckoning to the temple around them. "They tasked me with Solstheim. It was mine to head under their command, it was mine to roam and the people were mine to rule."

Every time Miraak said 'mine' there was a longing detected in his voice, a happier time for him. An envy and a sadness. The three of them were silent at his stories, and as Katara absorbed his words she realized he was never the Last Dragonborn...

He was the First.

"Is that why you were curious about my amulet?", Fayleen asked him.

"I still am curious how you came into possession of such a thing.", he shot back.

Fayleen fiddled nervously with it at her throat. "It was found by my father in some burial site many years ago. It was a...gift...that unfortunately never made it to him."

Miraak nodded slowly as he stared at the matching amulet. Katara spoke up then. "You ruled Solstheim, you were the highest Dragon Priest in the land...what happened? Why are you in hiding?"

There was a long pause and Katara saw Miraak's face twist into one of sadness, anger, and reluctancy. His answer worried her, though she did not let her fear show on her face.

Miraak stood up slowly, the three of them allowed it, and he walked down the length of the skull room, looking around. "I sought a higher power.", he replied seriously with his back turned to them, admiring a skull once more. "I found that power with Hermaous Mora."

"Who is Hermaous Mora?", Katara asked.

Teldryn thinned his eyes. "He's a Deadric god, the god of fate and knowledge and - "

"Which is exactly what he's given to me - knowledge.", Miraak interrupted as he snapped back, turning around to face the three of them. "And knowledge, Dragonborn, is indeed power. Hermaous Mora named me his champion, he sought the potential I held within, and he gifted me with a power...an ancient power..."

"What could possibly be more powerful than the dragons?", Katara asked. Miraak looked to her eyes and almost smiled a little grin.

"The power to tame them." The three of them fell silent and awaited his next words with baited breath as Miraak stepped his way closer to them. "I used this newfound ability, a Shout - much like what you are capable of, to overthrow some of the Dovahs."

Katara's face twisted in horror for a moment, but Miraak caught her words and said his own. "Don't scoff at me so!", he snapped. "If it wasn't for me then you'd all still be ruled by these! Your village would not stand where it stands today without me.", he finished as he pointed upwards at the walls to the dragon skulls. His words surprised Katara and the other two, for they were true and they could not deny it. It was a sobering moment for her.

"The dragons, did they banish you down here because of your treason?", Fayleen asked with an innocence.

"Dragons don't banish people, my dear.", he replied dryly. "They ripped the island of Solstheim from Skyrim herself. I was pushed out here to sea, wavering between Skyrim and Morrowind. The dragons came for me, the Dragon Priests came for me, even some of the more powerful mortals who still blindly followed their beastly overlords came for me...but I defeated them all. Until Alduin..."

Katara stepped forward, her eyes and ears watching and listening intently. "You remember Alduin's arrival?"

"Oh yes, centuries ago. When the World-Eater came to claim Skyrim, the dragons abandoned their hunt for my demise. The Priests joined the fight against him, but it was the Nordic champions of Skyrim that sought my help during the Dragon War.", he informed them, enjoying his own words. "Harkon One-Eye, Gormlaith Golden-Hilt - they came to Solstheim and pleaded me to step in and use my power to bring an end to Alduin.", he fell silent for a moment, gulping slightly.

"And...did you help?", Katara asked him. For the first time she saw regret in the eyes of Miraak. His face looked wearier, his shoulders slouched from their proud stature, though he answered with confidence.

"I refused them, I turned them away and instead started my own rebellion against Alduin and the dragons."

The three of their faces scrunched in disbelief and ridicule, though it was the quick-tongued Teldryn who spoke first. "Waging a war against Alduin AND the dragons whom you rebelled against seems like an awful bold - and stupid - strategy."

"And you'd be right, Teldryn.", Miraak surprised them with his elegant reply. "It was indeed a mistake, it was a lapse in judgment on - "

"You had the chance to defeat Alduin, you had the shot to save Skyrim so that he never returned...you're a coward!", Katara loudly shot at him, her face flushed pink with anger. Miraak's eyes widened and his nostrils flared, he was agitated but kept his level head when he went to speak, though she wouldn't not allow him another word. "You could have been hailed a hero, a true hero." Again Miraak went to speak, and again Katara would not let the words escape his mouth. "You're a traitor!"

He snapped. His mouth curled up in a snarl and he unleashed his words. "Traitor?!", he hollered back at her. Teldryn and Fayleen still had their weapons fastened to their hands, though they just attentively watched. "Was it not you that abandoned the call to serve the Legion, branding you a traitor?", Miraak seethed at her. Katara's face unhardened for a moment and let his words sink into her. She wanted to know how Miraak knew such things, and what else he knew of her. He stepped closer to her. "But I do not consider you a traitor, Katara. You did what you needed to do - to survive.", he finished more gently.

"What came of your rebellion?", Teldryn asked him curiously. Miraak hesitated on his answer, as if it were the one question he was reluctant to unmask.

"They came for me again, the Dragon Priests did. They knew they could not fight a war against myself and the World-Eater, one of us had to be dealt with promptly. Vahlok was the champion they sent to destroy me. I considered him my brother, for he was a trusted Priest in our time under the dragon's rule." Miraak placed his hands behind his back and looked down when he talked, askew from his normal proud stature, one of shame. "That day we did not fight as brothers, but as two enemies who craved an end to one another. We battled here in Solstheim, on this very mountain. It was vicious, relentless, the entire island seemed to quake beneath every blow dealt and villagers cowered under the veil of their huts. Lightning whipped the gray clouds that swirled overhead, the sky turned orange and angry atop this mountain. The gods watched us that day."

Miraak paused, he inched his way over to his weapon, the three of them, entranced in his story, allowed it. He picked it up and stared at it's green viney blade, not with malice but with forlorn as he pressed on. "That was until Vahlok had me. He had me right in his palms. I stared down the sights of death, I should've died that day.", he chuckled lightly in his throat. "Vahlok went to deliver the final blow to finish me, and by the power of Hermaous Mora I was stolen away, safe to live out my days...here.", he finished with an emphasis for the temple around him, yet an inclination in his voice of meaning so much more. Then he cocked his head to Katara and glared at her ever so slightly.

"Your village never cared for me. They knew me only as 'the Traitor'. You're branded as such from the Empire too, you know.", his own words felt like vinegar rolling off his tongue. He aimed his scythe-like sword for Katara. Teldryn and Fayleen noticeably tensed up, Katara tightened her grip on her skinny sword. "Well, Katara...you don't think you're a traitor, do you?" He tossed his weapon to Katara, who lunged and caught it despite being taken by surprise. She clutched it in her grip tightly, confused but stern.

"I've never heard my people speak of you.", she replied.

He scoffed lightly. "And you call yourself a Skaal..."

She flared her nose and tightened her lips but did not falter, the weapon firmly in her grasp. "Why am I here, Miraak?"

"A question you have asked yourself since the moment you arrived.", he began smartly. "Can't you feel it?", he asked. "We have spun upon the wheel of time differently, yet we share the blood of Dovahs. You don't even know the history of your people, you were never like them. You were never meant to be a Skaal, Katara. That feeling that always brought you back to the village, that feeling that brought you back to Solstheim, that was never the Skaal...that was me. Those with the blood of dragons are stronger when together."

Katara could not deny the feeling Miraak described, she had felt it since they first climbed through the dingy dark crawlspace. It was that feeling that kept her pushing, that kept her standing there and not walking out of the temple. She was drawn to him like a weak magnet, but more importantly there was a desire to know more, to seek answers about herself to which no one else in all the land could provide. And as Miraak said...

Knowledge is indeed power.

She felt the cold golden pommel of the sword and the weight in her hand.

"No.", she lied. With the bat of an eye she tightened her fingers around it and raised it above her, coming down hard to slice at Miraak. The First Dragonborn, quicker than she, drew his arms out in front of him and Shouted.

"Feim Zii Gron!" His Thu'um was a quick hush that the three of them felt reverberate throughout them and the room. In no less than a moment later his body had began to dissipate and was replaced with a figure of him wearing hardy dragon bone armor. It was almost holographic, luminating him with a light pink and yellow aurora.

His own sword went right through Miraak and clanked against the temple floor for a moment. Katara raised her weapon once more and swung her arms out over her head, sending another slice but this time across his throat, and again not even leaving so much as a scratch. She did not ready her weapon a third time but instead stared at him with wondrous eyes, for she could not hit him - he had become ethereal.

He walked, though moreso hovered, to her and looked in her icy gray eyes. He was close to her, though she could not smell him nor feel his close presence. She reached her hand out and gingerly tried to grasp for the collar of his fine green robes, to feel the realism of the satin, but her hand went right through it - just as it did in her dream of her village in flames. "You're here so you can unlock everything you need to know about what it truly means to be Dovahkiin.", he said in almost a whisper.

Katara was confused and amazed at the sight of the man before her, for she had never seen such a Shout before. "But where could I possibly start?", she asked him in a hush.

A faint smiled tickled the corners of his mouth. In a matter of seconds his holographic form began to fade and his mortal figure took shape once more, he appeared real again.

"Here.", was all he replied and in the blink of an eye his right hand was illuminated by a white burning orb. He raised his hand and struck Katara across the side of her face with the back of his hand, Miraak's sword falling from her grip and sending her across the room and against one of the large pillars of the skull room. She hit it hard and yelped for a moment.

"Why, you snake - ", Teldryn said to him as he went to raise his dagger. Katara's soft voice boomed from the ground.

"Stop.", was all she said. Teldryn paused as she commanded and lowered his weapon, he and Fayleen looked at her with confusion. The three of them watched as she propped herself up on her hands, then steadied herself as she found her footing and raised up. Miraak looked at her and only her, and with a light nudge of his foot he slid his sword over to where she stood. Katara lifted her shaky hand and tenderly felt her cheek, it was sore. In a flash she grabbed Miraak's sword and lunged at him.

He met her blow with now both his hands illuminated in the white orb, it was a ward spell. His weapon did no damage to him as the white light in his palms blocked the force. Katara withdrew the weapon and curled herself under, going for a swing at his legs below his ward. Miraak lept in the air and as she was down, he reached for the pommel of her skinny sword, pulling it from her scabbard and holding it proudly. Only for a moment did Katara show her surprisement.

Teldryn and Fayleen stood back by the bottom of the stairs and watched as Katara fought Miraak with his sword, and as he dealt it back with hers. Across the length of the room the sound of steel against steel clanked and echoed around the pillars, the occasional grunt as well. They blocked each blow dealt to each other. Finally they both found their weapons raised and they brought them down at the same time, a loud "ting!" echoing as the two blades were crossed at chest level, the two were within inches of each other, breathing heavily and shaky from the force of the resistance as Miraak looked into her eyes.

"Have you got more questions for me, Katara?", he asked her in a calm voice. Her arms and hands trembled under the force and the weight, her teeth gritted and sweat beaded her brow.

"No.", was all she replied. Miraak pushed against her hard, knocking her to the ground. He stood over her. His free palm was once again illuminated, this time in a red aurora that was familiar to Katara. He extended his hand out to his weapon that had fallen from her grip, and using a telekinesis spell he pushed his green sword away from her and across the other side of the room.

"Wrong, Dragonborn.", he remarked. "You must never stop questioning." He tossed her sword aside and it fell loudly at the feet of Teldryn and Fayleen. Again she was on the ground, and again she stared up at Miraak. With a gutteral cry she brought her empty palms to the white blue tint of ice, the frost pricking her fingers, and jumped up from the floor. With both hands formed as a tight ball in front of her chest, she shot a large ice crystal at Miraak. The First Dragonborn ducked as swift as the wind, as if it were instinct, and the icy spear impaled the dragon skull that hung ominously on the wall behind him. The four of them heard its impact and watched as the large skull teetered on its plaque and came crashing to the temple floor, shattering it to pieces and nothing but shards of bone. The room fell silent after the loud echoing had ceased.

Miraak glanced behind him at the destroyed skull, then he turned back to Katara, who was breathing heavily and had widened eyes. He only offered her a very small smile.

"Rest the remainder of the evening.", he began. "Meet me here tonight. I have something for you." With those words he began a graceful climb up the stairs, leaving the three of them to watch him exit the room in silence.

*The Eastmarch Hold*

He was in trouble, he knew it the moment that the bitter cold of winter no longer felt as cold. He looked down at his shaky hands, they were pale like the rest of him, almost blue like ice. He clenched his fists and wiggled his fingers to regain the feeling that the forest winds had numbed. The wound on his side throbbed and burned, it was the only part of him that was warm. Ulfric raised his robes and looked at the dark red gash with its dried blood coating his wound. It was bad, and it stunk of rotting flesh. He leaned against one of the towering pines that littered the forest, looking up at the first sight of daybreak as it tried to peek through the tops of trees, the events that unfolded the night before still fresh in his memory.

Ulfric could not muster the strength to bury every one of his men that pledged their swords to him that died by the campfire in the moonlight last night. Though honor and brotherly love could not allow him to leave Galmar Stone-Fist lying there in the fashion in which he died. Despite his own injury, Ulfric conjured the strength to carry his fallen brother away from the campsite and to a smaller clearing, one where the snow was soft and wet. He laid Galmar to rest, his second in command, his best friend since he was just a boy. The same boy that saved a young Ulfric so many years ago when he pulled him out of the river, yet Ulfric could not return the deed by saving Galmar this time. So instead he dug a hole as deep as his strength would allow, and gently he placed his comrade in it, his menacing bear pelt bloodied but still caped over his head and shoulders proudly. There was never a man more honorable and loyal than Galmar, Ulfric knew the void caused by the Empire the moment they struck him down could never be filled. Galmar's sword was placed in his palms so that he may rest the way every true Nord prays for - with a weapon in his hands. Ulfric covered his best friend securely with snow, and he said a Nordic prayer over his grave.

Ulfric Stormcloak knew only two things right now, his night spent wandering the forest allowed him plenty of contemplation. First, he knew that he needed to seek medical attention. His wound would not go away or heal itself on its own, it would get infected if not dealt with properly. His fatigue, the bitter cold, and foggy mind did not help. Secondly...

He knew he had to get back to Windhelm.

His people, his home, his land were in danger due to the Empire's treason against the truce. It was no detachment camp that ruined them down last night, it was a deliberate attack sent straight from the orders of General Tullius and High Queen Elisif. They had meant to bring an end to him last night, though now failing, the hunt for him would be on - as well as the war once again. The city of Windhelm needed their Jarl, he needed to rally the Stormcloak soldiers and the other kingdoms who pledged their allegiance to him, and he needed to avenge the death of Galmar Stone-Fist and the deaths of every Stormcloak who fell to the hands of the faithless Imperials.

Over the tops of trees Ulfric could see a weak plume of smoke beginning to rise. He knew he was far from any holds and cities, a bandit camp perhaps. He drew Chillrend from his back and tentatively stepped through the forest and towards the smoke until in a clearing ahead of him emerged a small house, no more than a hut, with smoke billowing out its chimney schute.

He breathed a small sigh of relief, though he knew he was not out of it yet. He needed medication, the stinging at his side reminded him of that. Yet he could not risk being noticed by anyone as the Jarl of Windhelm. Just as the Imperials were last night, he had to travel in secrecy. The General would soon know that his men were matched, and he'd soon know that Ulfric did not perish under the moonlight. He stared at the little hut for a moment, mowing it over. Surely no more than a mere farmer or peasant lived this far out in seclusion. If anything came of it then perhaps he could bribe the soul for their silence and their aid.

Ulfric Stormcloak placed Chillrend into its sheath on his back once again. He reached up to his neck and unlatched the pulley that kept his bear pelt draped over his shoulders and down his back. If he was going to be unrecognizable as Jarl then he'd need to make an attempt at it. Carrying the pelt in his hand, he approached the house and rapped his rough knuckles on the wooden door. At his feet he could see light from a rolling fire flickering underneath the door, followed by the shadows of a figure moving closer and the shuffle of light footsteps.

When the door opened he was greeted by an elderly Dunmer woman. Her face was blueish purple and stained with wrinkles, her large red eyes squinting up at Ulfric as her shoulders slouched beneath an all black robe, a black hood shrouding her head and pointed ears.

"You're awfully far from a tavern, young traveler.", the words trembled on her wrinkled lips.

"It's not mead I seek, my lady. Though I would not refuse a mug right about now.", he replied. Then he lifted his robes and revealed to her very lightly the wound at his side. "If I could trouble you for a healing potion, I would gladly compensate your generosity with coin."

The elderly Dunmer reached her trembling frail hand out and pushed back Ulfric's robe to see for herself. Her eyes looked up at him and motioned her bony fingers for him to follow her inside. Ulfric nodded gratuitously and stepped inside, the warmth of the fire overtook him and wrapped around his torso like a warm river that he waded into.

Ulfric felt quite large in a home that was only one room consisting of a single bed, a table, two chairs, and a kitchen. Hanging from the ceilings and the corners of walls were plants and vegetation of all kinds. On what little tablespace and countertops she had, viles with little plumes of white smoke sat bubbling, as well as various alchemist ingredients. Scrolls and books littered the corners of the small room. Ulfric placed his folded pelt on the backrest of one of the two chairs.

"A bit early in the day to be getting hit with arrows now, traveler?", she remarked as her small feet shuffled across the floor. Ulfric took a seat at the other chair.

"It's been a long night.", Ulfric replied wearily. The Dunmer woman walked over to the fire pit where a cooking pot sat in its stand. She picked up a wooden spoon and gave the venison smelling stew inside a few tender swirls. Then she walked her way into the kitchen, scanning a small shelf that had various colored potions and viles strewn amongst it. She mouthed the name of the viles with her thin lips and finally found a light pink potion.

"Many thanks for this.", Ulfric said as he was handed the vile. He popped the cork off and placed it on the table, dabbing the mouth of the small jar to wet his fingertips. He gingerly rubbed and massaged the gash in his side. It stung at first, but stinging was nothing unfamiliar at this point in the early dawn hours. Then the warmth, the good kind, set in and gently numbed the pain, bringing him finally a relief for the time being. Ulfric exhaled deeply and when he turned to grab the cork he found the Dunmer woman standing over the chair next to him, his bear pelt clutched in her tiny hands.

"War is coming, traveler.", she began, looking down at the flecks and clumps of red matted fur. Ulfric just watched her, unsure of what to do. Her red eyes looked as if she were elsewhere than in her cabin. "Not between the men with the fine robes and castles...but between the men with the fine robes and the dragons. The men in castles must spill blood first, traveler.", she finished.

Ulfric sat in silence and looked up at this petite elderly Dark Elf. He thanked her for the potion again, and reluctantly she handed over his pelt. He bid her goodbye and went on his way, her watching him up until the moment the door to the cottage clicked shut behind him. Ulfric Stormcloak fastened his bear pelt over his shoulders once again, leaving the Dunmer woman's cottage and not having the courage to look back as he headed into the thicket of the snowy forest that slowly brightened with the rising sun. His sights were set for Windhelm.


	33. Thirty-Three: A Lesson, a Plan, a Debt

Chapter Thirty-Three: A Lesson, a Plan, a Debt

*Solstheim*

Katara, Teldryn, and Fayleen all sat in their bed chambers around the rolling firepit in the middle of the room. It was built with bricks and rocks elegantly carved around it, creating a small spyre of sorts. It was alluring and comforting, though for Katara it did not ease the the range of emotions coursing through her every second.

"What could he possibly have for me?", she asked to both the elves.

"I still don't have a good feeling about this guy.", Teldryn cautiously warned.

"He's...", Fayleen started, polishing a side of her copper rose staff with one leg propped under her. "Unpredictable."

Teldryn nodded his head in agreement, he sat warming his gloved hands by the fire before looking to Katara. "Let's hope he doesn't have more bruises for you."

Katara reached up and felt her cheek, it was sore and she knew it was would leave a small color. She knew Fayleen was right, Miraak was unpredictable, the bruise was proof. What else would lie going forward with this man?

"As much as I loathe the man right now, he is Dragonborn.", she began. "This is a chance, perhaps by the prophecy, to grow stronger. Which I desperately need if I plan on facing Alduin."

"Yes, I suppose you're right.", Teldryn admitted. "But something tells me there's more to this Miraak than we're led on to believe."

"Much more.", Fayleen added almost grimly. Katara looked at her two best friends, their caution made her uneasy. They weren't always fans of her decisions, but she respected their concerns, for they were her loyal companions.

Her cheeks felt hot from the fire. It almost made her stomach queasy. Katara stood up from her chair and strapped her gauntlets to her arms. "I'm going to find that balcony again. I need some fresh air.", she informed them. Teldryn and Fayleen nodded and went back to polishing their weapons and enjoying the warmth of the rolling fire. Katara had to smirk at her two blades before she left the room, both fierce, yet both unable to stand the cold.

She made her way down the halls, all of which were dimly lit with burning torches on the walls. There were no windows, no small cracks in the stone where sunlight could eek its way in. Miraak was so reclusive, perhaps even more than the Skaal. His words came rushing back to her...

"You were never meant to be a Skaal, Katara."

Katara knew that the Skaal were her family, even if her parents weren't from the village - she was. It was where she grew up, it used to feel like the safest place on Solstheim...until the Empire ripped her from it. But there was a nagging in her gut, Katara felt like a Skaal - hunting, fishing, and surviving the cold came easily to her. But did she truly belong, Katara found herself asking her own being. If Miraak's words had any truth to them then she felt like an outsider amongst her own people. Was the First Dragonborn really the cause that kept her feeling like she belonged in her tiny quiet village all her life?

Katara came to the large iron doors that led out to the balcony, she looked to her left and saw a long dark corridor. To her right, the same. So many hallways, she thought, for one very secretive man. Katara's interest was piqued, she glanced around before moving to the wall and snatching a torch from its holder. Tentatively she began her walk down one of the dark halls. Her light flickered against the floor, illuminating her path for a only a mere foot or two in front of her. It was emptiness, nothing on the floors or walls, no doors either, yet still she followed. Her footsteps echoed off the stone that surrounded her and she found herself no longer able to see the light from which she came. Yet ahead of her, very dimly, was a glow. The glow grew the closer she got, until Katara could make it out as light from under a door.

Her torch's light caught the doors ahead of her where the glow illuminated from. She waved her light over it's iron, shadows danced across its unique carvings. Those of tentacles and vines were etched into the door, they were unlike anything Katara had seen before. The glow beckoned her attention again as she looked under the threshold. The glow was a dull green almost. Katara was more than curious what lie behind such an odd door, what further secrets Miraak could be hiding. Curiosity got the best of her as she reached up and ran her hands along the carved tentacles, feeling its rough pristine edges. Her hand moved closer to the knob, the iron was cold against her touch. She took a deep breath, and with a small "click" she pushed down on the handle. The door released and slowly she pushed it open, its weight was heavy but it opened with ease as she slipped inside tentatively.

Katara was surprised to find that it was a perfect circular room, and not at all that large. On the spherical walls around her were more of the carved tentacles, except these had a dim green glow to them, akin to what she saw peeking under the door. She was amazed by them, but what stood in the middle of the room piqued her curiosity even more. Katara moved closer to the center where an elegant looking podium stood, atop it was a large black book. There were no markings on it, no titles or numbers, it was just a black book waiting to be opened. Katara inched her way closer to it, a million questions flooding her mind. She dare reach her hand for its cover...

"You're not ready.", Miraak's voice echoed from the open door. Katara spun around with the torch in her hand hastily, flustered, and found him standing there, the green glow of the room making his emerald robes even more vibrant.

"Not ready for what?", she asked him once she gained her composure. Miraak stepped closer to her, his hands clasped behind his back.

"For what lies within the pages of that book."

Katara scrunched her brow and looked back at the book. Miraak stepped past her, past the black book to the side of the room adjacent to her. "You said you had something for me?", she called out to him.

He stopped in front a small portion of the wall, placing his hand on one of the tentacles. "I do.", he started, then he pushed on the iron tentacle, and a range of ticks and clanks could be heard as the tentacles began to dance and take motion on the wall. Katara stepped back and watched as the circular walls moved and parted, sliding open to reveal another dimly lit hallway with torches hanging along the walls. "You've already found it."

Katara stepped closer and peered down the corridor next to him. Miraak gently took the torch from her hand and placed it neatly in a holder on the wall. He beckoned for her to follow him as he led them down the hallway, she glanced back at the room with the book, Teldryn and Fayleen crossing her mind for a split moment, before walking alongside him.

"Where are you taking me?", she asked, her voice echoing around them.

"Taking you? You led yourself here.", Miraak responded plainly. At the end of the hall Katara could see a room, and when they neared it she could hardly believe her eyes. A Word Wall sat proudly in the middle of the room, it's ancient carvings and markings in stone looking just as the other Word Walls she'd seen before. Katara walked up to it and ran her hand along it.

"You've seen one before, no doubt?", he asked as he looked at her admiring it.

Katara nodded. "I first saw one when I talked with Parthurnaax, but I discovered one for myself in a dingy cave a few months ago. I learned to breath fire from it."

"I remember when I first unlocked the power of my Thu'um.", Miraak began as he admired the Wall alongside her. "It's a day I'll never forget. Ice, that's what the dragons taught me. To this day I'll still never understand why they chose that to be my first, but it's not a question I dwell too much on." Katara turned her head and listened to him. "I'll never forget the out of body experience of learning the Word of Power, ancient knowledge flooding my mind that I couldn't even begin to process nor understand, yet by the blood of Dovahs I was able to learn it, understand it...feel it." Katara knew the feeling Miraak described, it was intoxicating and complicated at once. "I didn't use it right away however."

"Why not?"

"Such profound wisdom felt wrong to use without a purpose. It felt like a waste, as silly as that may sound. No, it wasn't until I was hunting one night in the woods that I found myself using my Voice for the first time. I came across a gang of bandits, stepped right into their trap and they cornered me like some sort of vermin."

"You were scared of bandits? Surprising for a Dragon Priest.", Katara scoffed. A smile tickled his lips.

"I didn't become who I was overnight, Katara. I had to learn and make mistakes like everyone else. I was new to this life, naive.", he replied. "But I was outnumbered that night, twelve to one, I counted in my fearful moments. I was backed against one of the trees, I had only a simple steel sword at the time. Every bandit was closing in on me and for a time I had completely forgotten about my Voice. That was until I felt fear, and the feeling that followed that fear..." Katara waited for his next words. His voice was genuine and forlorn. "I can't describe the feeling exactly, only that it felt as if it were instinct. It started in my gut, then it grew into my chest and throat. It was icy and cold, I couldn't control it. Before I knew it the feeling had welled up inside me and when I opened my mouth, I felt winter escape my very being. I closed my eyes, not knowing what was happening. And when I opened them I saw the bandits, all twelve of them, frozen solid in their places. Their eyes were still wide, their weapons still clenched in their hands. I inched my way around their bodies, examining each of them, truly understanding this power. From that day on I never closed my eyes again when I Shouted, and I learned how to control every Shout I learned."

Katara shook her head at his words, but in amazement. Miraak put her feelings into the words she could never find. "I understand the feeling, I'm probably the only person in this world who still does. The first time I used my Thu'um was at High Hrothgar. Force is the one I was taught. I used it atop the mountain and felt its power, but the first time I used my Shout in combat was Fire, we were surrounded by Spriggans."

"Never cared for the stick witches.", Miraak remarked. Katara scrunched her brow at him but she couldn't not contain the giggle that escaped her mouth. "What did you do to them?", he asked.

"I turned them to ash.", she replied back confidently. Miraak could not stop the small smile that spread across his face. They smiled at each other and things fell quiet for a moment before he spoke to her again.

"Katara...", he began with his head down. "What I did to your people. I - I shouldn't have done such a thing. There were other ways to get you here, and I know that what I've done I cannot erase the impression I left on you or your people." Miraak's voice was sincere and almost sweet. Katara wanted to loathe the man, and she did still, but in this moment she knew he swallowed the pride that he clung to so tightly. She watched him put his hand on the Word Wall. "You're more a child of the snow than I am, you deserve the power to harness winter." With that Miraak leaned into the Wall, he breathed a word into its carvings, it was a hush that brought the stone to life as a glow began to illuminate the cracks within the Wall.

Immediately Katara felt it, the same feeling that she felt when she learned Force and Fire. It was a calling, a beckoning that drew her to the Word Wall, and slowly she saw the ancient Nordic words project off the stone. The chanting in her ears rung, her blood felt as if it swirled, her Dovah soul stirred within her.

Her eyes widened and she looked back to Miraak. He met her questioning expression. "You're here to learn, and I am here to teach. I hope you'll accept this as a lesson...and as a gift."

Katara stepped forward and let the Word take her, immerse her. It came to her mind, repeating itself in her heart - Ice. She felt it within, just as she had in the past. When she had absorbed the Word she stepped back and faced Miraak.

"It feels good, like you said...like winter.", she said with an exhale. "I...", she didn't know exactly what to say to the First Dragonborn, a range of conflicting emotions washed over her. "Thank you.", she finally mustered.

*Fort Hoag*

General Tullius sat in his leather chair and rapped his knuckles on the armrests, tapping his foot nervously. He had been sitting in his captain's quarters by himself, stewing on his own thoughts, since early dawn. When Commander Pavo, nor any man from the Commander's detatchment caravan, did not return the General sent Legate Rikke out to investigate. The news she brought back, along with the body of Pavo Arentino, brought all of the General's nightmares to fruition. Now she sat across from him on the other side of the strategy table, silent as he.

The General picked up his flagon and took a hearty sip of the dark red wine. Legate Rikke watched him, she had worked under him for many years and felt she knew the man well, though she could not read him in this moment.

"General, if I may, the men out there are in need of orders. We should head for Windhelm and - "

His eyes flew up to meet hers. "Windhelm?", he repeated. She closed her mouth and he looked down at his strategy table. Gently he placed a blue flag on the city of Windhelm. "If Ulfric made it out of the forest alive then that's precisely where he'll be heading. He'll be gathering his armies and allies before he can even get through his gates. If we still follow through with storming Windhelm then we'll be outnumbered by Stormcloak forces - and will have rushed right into the Bear's den."

Legate Rikke thought of his words for a moment. She eyed the map and leaned forward. "On your orders I'll do as you command, but the High Queen - "

"I know of the damn Queen!", he snapped in anger. It was anger that he had sat on all night, it clung to his shoulders like his Imperial red cloak. "I do not serve any High Queen of Skyrim, I serve the Empire and the Emperor." General Tullius knew Elisif's fears before carrying out his plan, it took begging just to get it approved by her and her council. He knew, just as it did with him, that news of Ulfric's escape would bring her nightmares to life. He feared the woman in a sense, for she was inexperienced in war matters and he feared she would relieve him of duty, send him back to Cyrodil in exchange for someone else. Doing such would allow Ulfric easy access to the throne and it would not be long after that High Queen Elisif would find her head on the chopping block.

He wanted Ulfric Stormcloak's head almost as bad as Elisif did. He was done with the games, he was tired of this one man continuously slipping through his fingers. General Tullius looked back to Legate Rikke, who sat silently and obediently.

"Tell the men to pack their belongings and load the caravans. I want to set out for Solitude by noon.", he said as he stood up promptly from his seat. Rikke stood up just as quick.

"Solitude, General?"

General Tullius pushed the red flags that were plotted over Fort Hoag and moved them to Solitude, joining a barrage of other red flags that dotted the western region of Skyrim. "Ulfric will not cower under the ice at Windhelm for long. Once he's gathered his armies then he'll march on Solitude, there's no doubt about it." He sighed deeply. "The terms and conditions signed the day we struck the truce are mute at this point, all Imperial troops have withdrew from Eastmarch and all Stormcloak rebels are gone from Hjallmarch." He pointed to the cities on his map. "We need Falkreath's allegiance the fight them in the southern fields, and we need Dawnstar to fight them in the northern. If I could guess correctly, I'd say that Dawnstar and Whiterun will rush to Ulfric's side, Jarl Balgruuf assured his fealty to the traitors the day he made a fool of me at Whiterun. No, we head for Solitude, we meet with the High Queen and regroup, then we must match their resistance in the middle and dwindle them down...anything to keep them off of Solitude." The General's eyes had been darting from place to place on the map so rapidly, flags had been pushed around every which way, Legate Rikke followed as closely as she could. Finally General Tullius found her eyes again.

"I wish I knew what Ulfric's next move was. The spy, Pavo's son - Aventis. Did you find him at the campsite?"

Rikke shook her head. "No trace of him, sir. He was not among the bodies."

*Somewhere in the Hjallmarch hold*

The first thing he saw was blackness, even with his brown eyes open. Next he felt it over his eyes, some sort of thin cloth that shielded his vision and tied around the back of his head. Aventis had movement though, he slid his palms along what felt like an old wooden floor with its cracks and splintered boards. He propped himself up on his arm, though he was stiff and his bones cracked. He lifted his hands to his face and slowly slid the blindfold up and over his eyes, pulling it off altogether.

"Well, look who's awake.", a soft voice cooed. Aventis looked up and found himself staring at a wooden bookshelf, empty. When his vision adjusted to the dim candle light he was able to make out a figure sitting atop the shelf. She had a womanly shape, slim and toned but small, and she was wearing an all black one piece suit. The black was dark as night, though it was trimmed with dark red fabrics along the lengths of the long sleeves and down the legs of the pants, cloaking her shoulders in a neat red as well. In the middle was a black belt strapped tightly around her waist, and shrouding her entire head was a black hood, her mouth and nose covered by a red cowl. Aventis squinted his eyes and looked up at her, still trying to orient himself.

"I trust you slept well.", her voice became more familiar to him the more she spoke. "I had tried to keep you out for at least two days, but here I thought you'd never wake."

"Two days...how...where am I?", Aventis asked in a worrisome tone.

The woman's leg dangled off the ledge of the bookshelf as she talked. "Never mind where you are, it's why you are here is what you should be concerned with..." She reached up and pulled down her cowl, then pushed back her black hood, revealing the pretty face of Babette. Aventis widened his eyes. He found his strength and lept to his feet, his legs feeling like jello.

"You! You liar!", he exclaimed, pointing at her with an accusatory finger. "You were supposed to kill my father, I paid you - I did the ritual!"

Babette glared her eyes as she spoke down to him. "And that's exactly what I intended on doing. I tracked him all the way to that fort, I planned on taking care of it that night. But your daddy wised up apparently, he left in the late night before I could get to him." She said with annoyance before smiling slyly at Aventis. "But I don't need to tell you that, do I? You had no trouble taking care of him yourself."

Aventis was angry with her. His cheeks were flushed red and his words were flustered as he stammered to get them out. She cut him off before he conjure them. "Relax, I'm not coming down on you. It was a good kill." There was a soft enjoyment in her voice. "I didn't think you had the balls to do it yourself. You're just lucky I found you lying in the forest buried beneath the snow."

"I had no choice.", he replied lowly.

"Oh, but you always have a choice, Aventis.", she remarked matter-of-factly. "But you see, there's a slight...problem...with your choice." Aventis thinned his eyes in confusion, until he heard very light shuffling behind him. Slowly he turned around. Behind him, all on their knees with their hands and feet bound, were three people. At first glance he could make one out as a male donned in an armor of iron and animal pelts. Beside the man in the middle was a petite woman wearing what looked like tavern clothing, a dirty apron clung to her waist. Lastly on the end, identifiable most by his bushy gray tail that curled by his haunches, sat a Khajit. He was wearing finer robes than the others, jewelry even hung around his neck and furry arms. All three of them sat shaking on their knees, their mouths gagged, with scared eyes that could scream a thousand prayers each all staring back at him.

"Your father, though arranged by you, was by every right a Dark Brotherhood contract.", Babette started as she looked at Aventis scanning the faces before him. "A contract that you stole. That was my payday, that was my blood to spill because you couldn't find the courage to do it yourself before." Aventis turned back to look up at her. "A debt is owed...a debt must be paid."

The teen shook his head and scrunched his brow in confusion, a tight knot of anxiety grew in his gut. "I don't understand..."

Babette smiled pitifully down at him. She reached for her waist and plucked out a shiny pointed dagger from her scabbard belt. "I've made this simple for you. One of these poor souls has a contract for their head. Figure out which, take care of it, and your debt has been paid." With that and a slight flick of her wrist she threw the dagger down at his feet, the blade sticking into the wooden ground just inches from his toes. The three hostages grunted and tried muttering words through their gags, their eyes teary and frightful at Babette's gamble with their lives.

Aventis bent down and pried the dagger from the wooden floorboard. He stared at it's blade then back up at Babette. "And if I refuse these mad demands?"

The beautiful girl smiled at him again and shook her head ever so slightly. "A debt must still be paid, young Aventis. I'd make sure it isn't with your head."

Aventis gulped in his dry throat as he looked to the faces of the frightened people once more. Tentatively he inched his way over to the first man donned in pelted armor. The teen slid the gag from the man's trembling lips.

"Please, lad.", the man begged. "I'm just a lowly hunter, I'm not meant to be caught up in all this. Nobody would have means for wanting me dead." Aventis listened to his words and only nodded before he moved on next to the bar maid kneeling in the middle, again he freed her mouth of the gag.

"You, boy, untie me and we'll walk out of here right now.", she tried to say in a whisper. "Everybody likes me, there's no doubt about it. Being here is a mistake." There was a nasally, almost whiny, pitch to her pleas. Aventis came to the last hostage and pushed the gag over the Khajit's furry chin, revealing his curled lips and sharp teeth.

"Asha has never wronged anyone before.", he spoke in third person. Aventis looked over the cat's attire, his fine robes and jewelry still looking pristine. "Asha is but a simple trader, a merchant of wares. Asha can make you rich, Imperial boy.", he purred.

Aventis looked over all of three of them - he studied their faces in his mind, tried to gather his swimming thoughts, tried not to think about the fear that each of them felt. He looked back at Babette, who had swung her other leg over the ledge of the bookshelf and watched with both anticipation and enjoyment. The teen stared at the dagger in his hand, he tightened his grip on its simple leather pommel and took a deep breath before grabbing the shoulders of Asha and driving his dagger into the Khajit's chest, so deep that only the pommel protruded from his fur. Life left the cat's yellow slit eyes and when Aventis pulled the dagger from his sternum and Asha fell back onto the floor, blood oozing out of his open wound.

The teen looked down at the bloodied dagger and then back at Asha's body. The woman in the middle shrieked out of shock and Aventis felt frozen in time until he heard a thud and the sound of leather boots knocking their way across the wooden floor.

"Why did you choose the cat?", Babette asked him as she appeared by his side.

Aventis watched the pool of blood begin to soak the man's gray fur at the nape of his neck, his tail lying still beneath him. "Khajits are known thieves." Asha's fine green robes were stained red, his necklace and bracelets had their gold tainted with blood. "Perhaps he stole from the wrong noble."

Babette held out her hand, beckoning for Aventis to give back the dagger, to which he did. She held it firmly in her hand and looked at the other two on their knees, the terror that had faintly left their eyes now returned.

"Please, ma'am. Cut us loose now, the deed is done.", the man begged once more.

"Just wait til I get out of these binds, I'll have every guard in the hold out looking for you!", the woman hollered out in anger and fear.

Babette looked at both, and swifter than anything Aventis had seen she stuck her arm out and slit both of their throats precisely and sharply, like a saw, from one side of her torso to the other. Screams began to emit from both, though they both dwindled to wet wheezes as their own blood filled their lungs and their frightful eyes closed and they fell limp from their knees and to the wooden floor.

Aventis jumped back in shock, horrified. "You said I only had to kill one!", he exclaimed, staring at the now three bodies that littered the floor at his feet. Babette knelt down and wiped the dripping blood off her blade on the dirty white apron of the bar maid, then she stood up and strapped it fastly back to her waist.

"All three of them had contracts on their heads, I just wanted to see why you picked the one that you did.", she replied plainly.

Aventis scoffed. "For what, some sort of sadistic Brotherhood game?"

"No, for my own personal curiosity."

"And?", he asked almost sheepishly.

"And now I know never to steal from you.", Babette replied with a little smile at the corners of her plump lips.

She walked over to the door and plucked out a small silver key from her belt. She proded the knob for a moment opening the door. The sun shone through the threshold and he followed her out of the dingy shack. He was surprised at the sight before him, it was nothing but marshland - swamps and mud everywhere around them. But in the distance no more than a few hours ride, sitting on the edge of its proud cliff, was the silhouette of Solitude. Aventis could even make out the windmill's paddles churning off on the horizon. He turned back to Babette, who had walked around the side of the shack to a brown steed tied up to a post. He could only see her head from behind the horse as she pulled her black and red suit over her head. Aventis blushed and he turned away from her, looking out towards Solitude again.

"Where will you go now?", he hollered behind him to her.

She shuffled with something hanging in a knapsack off the side of her horse. "Back to the Sanctuary, to my brothers and sisters and Astrid.", she gave Aventis a side glance. "You could come along, you know." Her words were guarded but sincere.

"To the Dark Brotherhood?", he offered her a chuckle. "No, I need to go to - "

"Go where, Aventis?", she emerged from behind her horse and snapped at him sternly with a soft voice. She was wearing plain clothing now, a light purple commoner's dress, almost matching her lavender eyes. "Are you going to run back to your mother, and tell her what - that you killed your father? Or perhaps you've considered Windhelm, forgetting the fact that Ulfric will have your head the moment he lays eyes on you. Think twice if you plan to head to Solitude.", she said as she pointed to the horizon. "They'll execute you for treason. You've got no one and nowhere to turn to." Her words were like daggers themselves, sharp realities. "What have you got to lose?"

Aventis chewed on her words. "I'm no fighter though..."

"That's good.", Babette started as she turned and reached back to the horse's saddle, pulling out a sword from a sheath hanging off the side. She extended it out to Aventis, and the teen could tell it was his own sword, the one he used to slice the Imperial soldier open with just the other night. "Because we don't fight...we kill."

Aventis looked at his blade, it needed cleaned, still stained red. He glanced back at Solitude only one final time, when he turned back to Babette he found her already walking alongside her horse, reigns in hand, through the mud - her black leather boots getting mud on the blood stained laces. She turned back and shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand.

"We better get a move on, young Aventis. Home awaits."

Aventis slid his sword neatly into his scabbard belt, feeling its weight at his hip, and took a deep breath. He followed after her, gingerly watching his steps over the mud puddles.

*Chapter Notes*

This is the point I've wanted to be at for quite some time now with all of my characters. As you can guess I'm going to be running Aventis on the Dark Brotherhood storyline from here on out for a number of reasons. One, because I love the version of Aventis that I've created and I think having him go down this path is more sensible to the story than the Dragonborn becoming leader of all factions. Aventis has always felt like a more poetic fit to me and this has been my intention with the character since the beginning. Secondly, while their story lines will run somewhat separate, my intentions are bringing Katara's story and his back together again for what I hope is a very epic moment (ending?) and canon to the game many more chapters down the road. So I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!


	34. Thirty-Four: Again

Hi, all! Again, I'm so very sorry for a delay in this chapter. I've been steadily working on 34 since mid-September but I've had to evacuate for this year's past hurricane season, amidst dealing with personal things, that have prolonged the finish of this chapter. As always, thank you for reading and I hope to get a jump on 35 here shortly!

Chapter Thirty-Four: "Again."

His bear pelt was cinched tightly around his neck, it wrapped behind his nape and draped over his broad shoulders, swaying behind him with every step he trudged through the snow. His side still stung, but nowhere near as bad as it did before he stumbled into the hut of the elderly Dunmer alchemist. Ulfric still could not shake the woman's words of warning...

"War is coming, traveler.", he remembered her saying with a sullen, grim shake in her voice. "Not between the men with the fine robes and castles...but between the men with the fine robes and the dragons. The men in castles must spill blood first."

Ulfric considered himself to be spiritual, for he worshipped Talos openly and proudly. He believed in the other gods as well, even those he did not revere, and he felt that the gods combined wheeled time and fate. Prophecies meant little to him until the day came when he found himself heading for the chopping block at Helgen with a gag biting into his mouth. Until he heard the flapping of the fabled Alduin and saw the World-Eater in all his black fury. It was like the stories his wet nurses had told him, and Ulfric knew from that day on that Skyrim and her people would once again battle against the dragons that have come to reclaim them.

It was a war he could not stop, the one against the dragons. But the war against brothers was one that Ulfric himself ignited with the killing of Torygg. There was a feeling that crept over him, one that tried to take its hold on him in the late night hours, one of regret. He told himself that he did what he did for the good of Skyrim and her people, but he second guessed his judgment - was he a fool to plunge the country into a war at the same time as the return of the dragons? Had Ulfric only known...

But the Empire was foolish, for they did not understand the threat, the real threat - the dragons. Ulfric knew it was he that started the war, but it was them that reignited it once more. And now Ulfric knew what had to be done before it was time to face Alduin, just as the Dunmer alchemist warned in her hut - the men in castles must spill blood first.

Ulfric realized that the end of the war drew closer, and he intended on being the one to finish it.

Trudging through the forest he could make out ahead of him the very dim light of a candle flickering in a frosted windowsill. Through the light flurries floating in the wind the shape of a wooden inn appeared around the flame. Ulfric watched his footing in the snow mounds and approached the inn from its rear, feeling his way around the walls of its side and quietly peeking out. He was both relieved and anxious to see the main road, and standing off to the side of the road was a dingy wooden sign that read "Braidwood Inn". He recognized where he was, not far north from Kynesgrove. Windhelm was no more than an hour's ride, longer on foot.

His stomach ached from the grumbling and growling, it had been a couple days since Ulfric's last true meal. It was no longer a hunger but a twisted knot that made him feel queasy. His tongue was dry and rough from the bitter cold, and his healing potion wore off hours ago giving life to his throbbing wound again, which was now crusted in scabs and dark dried blood. Ulfric needed not to be seen before he made it back to Windhelm, yet he knew he needed to make it back. He knew he could make it without food, but not without water and warmth. Against the better side of his judgement, Ulfric reached up and pulled off his bear pelt, once again holding it his arms. He then fumbled with the tight braid hanging by the right side of his face, undoing the blue twine that held it together and ran his fingers through his dirty blonde hair, his shoulder length mane now shrouding his cheekbones in a messy wet fashion. Ulfric wished he could do more to hide who he was, but the weight of Chillrend at his back reminded him of how very recognizable he was. He hesitated, searching his mind for a plan, until the fur of the pelt in his hands tickled his flesh in the wind, and he knew. Ulfric unsheathed his famed battle axe and carefully wrapped its stained blade within the pelt, tying it fastly together with the blue twine. It looked silly, he admitted to himself, but if it bought him secrecy for a chance to wet his throat and warm his hands then so be it.

Ulfric Stormcloak turned the corner towards the door of the inn and found a gorgeous black stallion tied up to the posts outside. He got closer and looked at its sleek mane, familiarity striking him until his eyes landed on its saddle - fine light brown leather, no doubt forged from the Windhelm stables. He recognized the steed at that moment, it was his gift to Katara before she set off for the College of Winterhold, Valkyrie she called him. Excitement, curiosity, and concern grew in his gut. Perhaps Katara was in there, he thought to himself. Or perhaps she wasn't.

Ulfric pushed his way quietly through the door of the cozy inn with cloaked Chillrend in his hand, at first glance he saw empty longbenches and tables set off from the walls, some still dressed with dirty plates and mugs. A fire rolled in the middle of the room and it's warmth engulfed him immediately, for a moment it was heavenly. To the far side of the inn was the bar with its cooking pits behind it. At the counter slouched a fat innkeeper with a damp rag in one hand, his other fat goudy arm propping himself up. Adjacent from him sat a man who's back only Ulfric could see, though the nape of his neck was greenish, along with his forearms. Katara was nowhere to be seen.

"Another bottle, keeper." The man's gruff voice gave him away as an Orc. Ulfric walked to an empty table silently without either men paying him any mind, on one long table sat a venison chop that was half eaten alongside a large horned mug. Eagerly he picked up the mug and peered in, greeted with the sight of ale. He took a large swig from its lip and felt the ale inside wet his mouth and gullet. It tasted stale, yet it was the most refreshing thing Ulfric had ever drank in that moment. The rolling fire warmed his backside and the Jarl gently placed Chillrend on the longbench beside him before plopping himself down in front of the plate of venision.

The innkeeper shuffled to a shelf behind him and plucked out a purple bottle of wine, turning to set it in front of the Orc. The innkeeper shot the man a speculative glare as he cleared the empty bottle from the counter. "You're running up quite a tab, friend."

The Orc poured the grape wine into his flagon, filling it to the brim and taking another sip of it. "If it's coin you're worried about...", he began as he reached into his simple leather tunic and pulled out a large coin purse, jingling it as he threw it on the counter in between the two of them. "I'm not going to skip out on you.", the Orc said with a wet lipped toothy grin. Ulfric picked up the venison chop with his bare hands and sunk his teeth into its meat. It was salty, but filling. He listened to the conversation going on at the bar, still keeping quiet and trying to go unnoticed.

The innkeeper's eyes widened at the fat sack of gold. "No offense to you, traveler, but how did someone like you come into so much coin?" He gave the Orc a thorough glance, looking at the man's simple clothing and dirty green flesh, he wore a ragged hat over his protruding head and brow. He looked like nothing more than a miner or a farmer.

The Orc raised his mug in the air and his toothy grin returned. "Luck." Then he tossed his head back in a tipsy cackle and lowered his mug again. "I was mining down by the Black River when I swore I saw a horse black as night drinking down stream from me. I got a closer look and took it by its reigns, he's very tame, got the thing tied up out there.", he nodded his head towards the door. "But forget the damn horse, the best was finding this hanging by its saddle." The Orc jingled the coin purse again. "Don't know who'd be stupid enough to just abandon their coin and their steed, or if it was a blessing from the gods, but I don't care if I'm being honest. My luck has changed, to say the least." He took another big swig.

The fear in Ulfric's gut grew. He knew Katara would not just leave Valkyrie unless she had to, and surely would not leave her coin with the stallion. None of it made sense to him and he wanted to worry for her, but he knew she had handled herself long before him. He had to trust her, had to trust that she was safe wherever she was at. Though the Orc's arrogance annoyed him.

"That's mighty fine luck. What will you do with your findings?", the innkeeper asked, leaning over the counter curiously.

"I'm heading into Windhelm. Figure I'll get me the finest room that Candlehearth Hall has, drink the finest mead, and maybe even fuck the finest Nord wenches that frozen city has to offer." He took a big sip, purple wine running from the corner of his mouth as he set the cup down hard. "Just wanted to pop in here and waste some of this coin." The innkeeper smiled as if he were impressed by the Orc's pompous attitude, then the Orc shifted on his stool and turned to look at Ulfric, only seeing the Jarl's back as he faced away from him eating the venison that had begun to turn cold. "A mug for the quiet traveler sitting in the back.", he hollered. Ulfric sighed and glared his eyes.

"Many thanks, friend. But I'm fine.", he replied back to him as nicely and lowly as he could without having to turn to face the man.

"I hope you plan on paying for that venison you're chewing on...", the innkeeper remarked with a venom in his voice.

"Refusing a drink from a rich man?", the Orc laughed. "Money like this could turn a fool like me into a Lord in Windhelm. You may just regret it." He scoffed and turned back to the innkeeper and began sipping from his mug once more. Ulfric bit his tongue and took one last big sip from his flagon of stale mead. He set the cup down with a hard knock on the wood of the long table before gracefully getting up and taking Chillrend in his hand. With powerful strides he moved across the length of the room towards the two men.

"You're right about one thing.", Ulfric began, looking down at the sitting Orc, his stature almost overpowering the man. "You are a fool." The Orc lost all words in his mouth, though his face twisted into one of anger, his fanged teeth barred in a snarl. Ulfric reached into his robes and pulled out a fatter sack of coin. "For the venison.", he said as he threw the sack onto the counter, both the innkeeper and the Orc were speechless at the bag of septims that fell in between them as they watched Ulfric turn and leave the inn.

The warmth of the fire felt good on him, though the chill of the air cooled the anger that he felt rising in his cheeks. Ulfric looked at Valkyrie once more and without giving it a second thought, he pulled a small dagger from his scabbard and approached the beautiful steed. Carefully running his hands over the stallion's mane, he hushed the animal and in a swift motion cut the rope that tied his reigns to the post. Ulfric looked back at the door then back at Valkyrie, hoisting himself up and mounting the horse. With a quick click of his heels he and the black stallion took off down the cobblestone road, kicking up snow in their tracks as he rode the horse as fast as its hooves would carry them.

Not much longer after he left Braidwood Inn did he see the familiar stone walls of his kingdom, his home. He galloped as fast as he could passed the stables and over the icy bridge, two of his watchmen leaning over the stone walls to peer down at the man rapidly approaching the gates of Windhelm.

"By Talos...its Ulfric Stormcloak!", one of the men hollered in disbelief. "Open the gates for your Jarl!", he ordered with urgency to the guard next to him, hot steam emitting from his frosted breath.

*Hjallmarch Hold*

Aventis listened as the rhythmic knocking of hooves echoed on the cobblestone road, Babette had not once climbed atop her horse since leaving the shack. She just casually strolled alongside it, reigns held tightly in hand, and Aventis walked alongside her. They looked as if they were two commoners traveling from one lazy town to the other, both knowing they were much more than that.

The sun was beginning to lower in the sky, giving everything around them an orange hue. The sun was a welcome change, one very different from the frigid hold of Eastmarch Aventis had spent the past few months dwelling in. It's warmth felt good on his skin and he shielded his eyes from its descending light.

"We should make camp for the night.", Babette remarked as she lowered her hood over her forehead. Aventis noticed she had never removed it during the day traveling, assuming the sun was something that was unfamiliar to her at this point as well.

They were a long while from Solitude and the terrain had turned from lush shrubbery and rivers to fields of grain and wheat waving in the winds. Aventis couldn't place his finger on where they were, having not been a native of Skyrim or in its lands for very long, but he could recall traveling the same main roads through when he and his father rode from Solitude to Kynesgrove. There were no rocks or ditches or crannies to seek refuge around, though Babette didn't seem worried about setting up camp in the open.

"Do you travel these roads often?", Aventis asked her as he helped unload bedrolls and knapsacks from the horse.

Babette tossed one of the bedrolls onto the ground, a small plume of dust erupting from the spot in which it plopped down. "I travel where I'm needed."

Aventis tied the reigns of the horse to the nearest lamppost and opened the knapsack that hung off his saddle in search of a carrot or an apple. He peered in and fished his way around, his fingers feeling something cold and smooth. He pulled it out and scrunched his face upon examining it closer.

"What's this?", he asked, holding up a small red vile, inside sloshed around what looked like dense blood.

Babette jumped up from her crouch and stopped setting up the tent. Hastily she snatched the vile from Aventis' hand, her brows furrowed down in annoyance. "I don't believe I invited you to help yourself to the contents of my knapsack.", she shot at him. Babette held the vile up to her eyes and looked at the jar for a breif moment, inspecting it's integrity. When she was pleased she stuck it back into the bag. "Do that again and I'll cut off your fingers.", she warned him lightly before she shoved past him and went back to work propping up the tent.

Aventis went to work picking up small limbs and dry twigs that lay around them in the open brush, he knew it wasn't much but they'd need something to build a fire with. "I'm sorry, but why are you carrying blood with you?", he asked with a confused tone in his voice. Babette stood up again and stared at him, annoyed at his continuous questioning, then he spoke again. "Is it some sort of...Brotherhood thing?", he asked with a sincerity in his voice that Babette couldn't help but grin at. She waltzed over to the horse and on the other sling of its saddle was a brown leather purse of sorts, inside she pulled out a generous chop of cow wrapped in a damp cheese cloth.

"You ask a lot of questions.", Babette remarked as she stepped closer and placed the wet cold slab of meat in Aventis' palm, his face trying not to twist into a grimace. "My turn. Do you ever shut up?"

He cut his eyes at her and offered her an annoyed face, though he understood her point as he silently peeled back the wet cheese cloth that protected the meat, a disgusted look on his face. Without protesting her Aventis picked up one of the sturdier limbs he gathered and impaled the cut of meat with its splintered wood before walking his way over to where they had gathered the wood for the fire.

Nightfall fell upon them and the two didn't say anything to each other as by now the bed rolls had been set, the horse had been situated, and the chop of beef was roasting over their small fire. Only the sounds of the fire cracked the night air and the bugs around them sang their nighttime melodies. Aventis lay in his bed roll on his back staring up at the night sky. With scarce to no trees or shrubbery, the stars and moons of Skyrim's atmosphere were more vibrant and noticeable than Aventis had ever seen before, even with the fire's light dancing out of the corner of his eye.

Babette sat on her bedroll, one leg propped up to her chest with a sword resting against her leg and the ground. It was a long sword from which was sheathed to the other side of her steed and she had retrieved earlier for cleaning and polishing. Her oiled rag slowly worked the length of the sharp blade, she looked up and over at Aventis.

"Do you regret it?", she asked, breaking their silence.

Aventis only turned his head to her. "Regret what?"

"Killing your father."

Her words felt like daggers themselves, a vocal reminder of what's been on his mind since the moment it happened. He was quiet for a moment before turning his face back to the starry sky. "The only regret I have is not doing it sooner.", he replied back. Babette stopped polishing her weapon and listened to him. "I should've paid attention to the signs when I was younger, ran away or something. Instead I made it my one and only goal to make my father proud. I wanted to be a soldier for the Empire, anything just to gain his approval." Aventis gulped down the hard knot in his throat. "Nothing I ever did was good enough for him, I was weak in his eyes. I still am weak." He cocked his head again and met her attentive gaze across the fire. "The only difference is, his eyes can no longer judge me for being weak."

There was another silent moment that passed between them and Babette gave her sword a good glance over before getting up and stuffing it and her rag into its sheath in the horse's saddle. She fiddled with something else before plopping back down on her bedroll and sitting cross legged, reaching for the cooked meat that roasted over the fire.

"Here.", she said. Aventis turned his head towards her again and sat up, met with the sight of the cooked beef being extended to him.

Aventis gladly accepted and began picking chunks off of his meal, the meat stinging his fingers slightly as it's juices left hot trails of grease on his palms. He hardly noticed as he eagerly munched away, feeling selfish he glanced back up at Babette, who had a small jar in her tiny hands.

Aventis extended the meat back to her, licking the juice and remnants from his fingers. She waved him away and stared down at the jar, which Aventis could tell was a dark vile once the fire's light caught the glint of its glass.

"You won't eat?", he asked her puzzled.

Babette was hesitant to answer, still looking down at her jar. The red tint he recognized earlier showed its color again - the blood. She quietly popped the small cork from the mouth of the vile and turned it up, taking a large swig before returning the cork to its place. Aventis stared at her, his mouth hung agape and in disgust for what he just witnessed. Babette reached up and gently wiped at the corner of her mouth.

"I still eat, but it's not often substance I require."

Aventis remained propped up on his elbow, still staring at her with wide eyes. "What are you?", he asked in almost a whisper.

Babette then met his stare, and even in the dim light of the night, he could see a pain behind her lavender eyes. "Surely you know, don't be silly, young Aventis.", she began, a sadness in her tone trying to be drowned out by her playful endearment, though she could not fein it well enough. "You've heard the stories...blood sucking nightstalkers, pale skinned and sickly, carrying children and cattle away to our lairs..."

It began to register quickly with Aventis, and he only faulted himself for not recognizing it sooner. He wanted to ask more questions, though when he went to speak she spoke before him. "I was a teen when I was bitten, can't even remember how it happened. I can't even remember my life before it happened, but I looked like this when I was bitten."

"How old are you?", Aventis asked.

"I've lost count nowadays...but a few hundred years I'd say...". It was as if hearing her own words resonated with herself, and for a brief moment her young and pretty face looked worn and aged under the flickering of the fire. The two were silent for a moment.

"Are you afraid of me now?", Babette added, breaking the silence. There was a small fear in her voice, and Aventis detected it under her guarded demeanor.

"I was afraid of you from the beginning.", Aventis answered. Babette met his eyes again, a look undetectable on her face, until she smiled lightly and looked down at her bedroll. He offered her a small grin in return.

*Solstheim*

"Again."

Katara felt the rush of air move between her and Miraak, followed swiftly by the blunt force of his green sword meeting against her own steel. The weaponry clanked loudly and reverberated against the dragon skulls that hung proudly around them. Katara grunted against his force, her arms trembling. Miraak lowered his weapon and turned his back to her.

"Again.", he ordered as he spun around swiftly, raising his sword again and bringing it down this time to a slice against her side, to which she barely blocked in time. Again her hands trembled under his force, sweat beaded her brow. She knew he wasn't going easy on her, yet she also knew he exercised restraint when showing her his full power.

For the handful of days Katara and her elven companions had been guests against their wills in Miraak's temple, her and the First Dragonborn had practiced every day. He showed her new rooms in his temple, rooms that had targets in them and practice dummies. She ran circuits with her frost magicka and the targets presented to her, and she could feel herself becoming more comfortable with it. Miraak also took time to teach her breathing exercises that he claims would help control her Thu'um. They had yet to practice Shouts, which made Katara anxious, yet she knew such things could not be rushed. Though while Alduin plotted, she must be ready.

Despite magicka circuits and Thu'um meditation, Miraak had her sparr with him every day. And every day he went no easier on her than the day before. She would often be bloodied, bruised, and battered at the end of their lessons. Though she felt herself learning, and she was a faster learner than Miraak had given her credit for.

"You almost weren't quick enough that time. Don't raise your sword until your opponent goes into their stance, you expected me to deliver a blow from overhead again. I would've taken off your legs just now.", Miraak remarked as he resumed a non-combat stance.

"But you didn't and I countered it.", she quipped back.

"But the point is that you didn't see my blow coming, and I could've almost wiped the Dragonborn from the face of Tamriel.", he chided back. The two were quiet for a moment as they paced in their spots with their weapons in hand. Both were stubborn, both were power driven. Katara thought it could only be due to their Dovah blood. Though Miraak had a way of testing her more than the gods did, he had a knack of getting under her skin and hitting her to her core - both with words and weaponry.

"You're never going to be able to defeat Alduin if you lack basic combat skills.", he added. "Again." In the blink of an eye he lunged again, this time raising his hands above his head and bringing them down, as if to meet her sword in the air once more. Though she saw the look in his green eyes, and she blocked his blow down by her legs.

Miraak gave her a look, almost a proud grin, and subtly nodded. "Better.", he said.

She regained her posture, though she was annoyed by him. "How much longer?", she asked in a voice teetering harsh.

"The same as the days before, you know - "

"How much longer of this?", she emphasized, her voice more demanding now. Miraak attention piqued and he turned to her. He knew exactly what she was referring to, he had not a need to dance around her inquiry.

"I've told you...until you're ready."

Katara shook her head, fed up with an answer she deemed unacceptable. "And who deems when I'm ready or not? You? The gods?"

"You'll know when you're ready, Katara.", was all he could reply.

Katara threw her sword to the ground with a loud ting and stomped her way closer to him, her gray eyes wide with intimidation and nostrils flared with anger. "I AM ready.", she declared through clenched teeth. "I'm ready to face Alduin."

Miraak now turned to face her, his relaxed face now hardened and for the first time, Katara thought she saw genuine shock in his eyes. "Do you believe your own words?", he asked almost in a whisper. It was a question that threw her off guard momentarily. "You and I both know you're not ready. You have no one else but me."

"I have Teldryn and Fayleen, I have the Greybeards - "

"None of them can help you in the way that only I can.", he interrupted. Katara's mouth quivered with words that she could not conjure.

"I have the Elder Scroll.", she declared almost matter-of-factly, knowing it was indeed all she needed.

Miraak nodded slowly, as if he awaited to hear her say those very words. "Aye, you do. And yet here you are, sparring with me every day." He moved closer to her, matching her determined demeanor. "There's no guards at my gates, there's no magical forces binding you to these walls. You said it yourself, you have the tool needed to defeat Alduin. Yet here you are, why do you think that is?"

Again her lips silently mouthed the words she couldn't find, but Miraak interjected once more as his emerald eyes penatrated hers with intensity. "You're here because you know it takes more than a Shout to defeat Alduin, it takes more than a lucky swipe of a sword. It takes the blood of a Dovah. You have to understand your enemy to defeat him. You want to know what makes the World-Eater tremble." He leaned into her slightly. "Is it you that makes him tremble?"

His words sent a tremble itself down her own spine, but Katara was stubborn, she felt her own pride well in her. Gracefully she resumed a normal stance and slid her skinny sword into its sheath latched at her back. "It is I. And all I need is the Elder Scroll, I've learned plenty from you."

She slid past him and turned on her heel, heading for the large staircase. She felt in her gut that she was stupid, though Katara had her own integrity in that moment. She did not feel as intimidated of the Miraak she had come to challenge daily, though she knew of his power and his capabilities.

She walked, with a tall stature, until his words from behind her brought her to a halt. "Katara - "

"Are you going to kill me, Miraak?", she demanded in a returning harsh tone. "Will you strike me down if I climb these stairs, the only apparent Dragonborn capable of defeating Alduin?"

Miraak was taken back for a moment by her fireceness, and even more so by the dagger of truth that it drove in the space between them. Her words were true, her bluff just so. He knew as well as she did that he would not put an end to her if she dared to leave. Miraak was not stupid, he knew the prophecy, he knew the role Katara played in the fate of Tamriel.

But he knew of his role as well, and he had to make her see that, now more than ever.

He took a leap towards her, still keeping his distance. "Please,", he began gently. There was a genuinty in his throat, a subtle plea almost. "If you must leave, allow me to teach you one more thing before you flee Solstheim. At dusk, in the room you met me in several nights ago."

"What could you possibly have left to teach me?", Katara scoffed at him with a curiosity underlying.

"What's lies in that black book of mine that you're so curious of."


	35. Thirty-Five: Apocrypha

Chapter Thirty-Five: Apocrypha

She sat poisedly in her large throne, the crown atop her head was dressed in the same jewels that crested around the gold seat from which she sat on. Around High Queen Elisif was her usual small council positioned around her dutifully, the candles flickered all around and made the large room seem much dimmer yet more intimidating and elegant than it did in the daylight.

In front of her stood General Tullius tall in his Imperial armor, the deafening sound of silence occupied the entire room around them all.

"Leave us, Falk. All of you.", Elisif gently demanded to Falk Firebeard who stood next to her, he then bowed gracefully and quickly as he could made his way across the throne room to the large doors. The court mage, her closest knights and guards, and other nobles curtseyed politely and followed in his footsteps until the iron doors closed shut and the sound of their echoing footsteps died and the silence returned.

"Do you remember the words you told me the last time we spoke, General, right here in this very room?", Elisif asked him, both inquisitively and smartly. The General shifted in his spot, immediately knowing where she was taking her words next. He chose his next words carefully.

"I told you that you had nothing to fear.", he replied bluntly and honestly with a level tone.

The High Queen wrapped her delicate pale fingers around the arms of her throne, fiddling with the gold curvature resting under her wrists, looking down into her lap. "You told me I had nothing to fear...", she repeated back to him. Elisif leaned forward and stood up gracefully from her seat before walking over to the window, boots knocking against the ceramic tiles and stone floor. She stared out the East facing window overlooking the edge of her kingdom. Just over the ledge was the choppy waters of the Ghost Sea that lapped and crashed unto the rocks beneath them, and the lunar brightness from Skyrim's moons flicked across the waves.

Tullius was a bit taken back by her poised demeanor, and he feared she was on the brink of losing it on him. He half expected it. The General went to open his mouth, even taking a step a bit further to her, when she spoke again.

"You assured me I had nothing to fear, General.", she began, still looking out the large windows. "You told me that Ulfric was as good as mine." High Queen Elisif turned towards him and met his eyes.

The General exhaled. "We did have him, Your Grace. I sent a detachment caravan to ambush him and his men. I did not go with them, though now I wish I would have. I honestly don't know what happened that night, My Queen. No man of ours was left alive, then again, neither were any Stormcloaks - "

"Then why is Ulfric Stormcloak not shackled and bound and laying in front of me as we speak?", Elisif interrupted and raised her voice in anger. Her green eyes were wide and her nostrils were flared, her cheeks splashed a patchy color of red and pink.

General Tullius knew her frustration, he knew the defest she felt, though he wagered he felt it coursing thru his own veins even more. "Ulfric's body was not recovered at the campsite, however he was a long way from Windhelm. Should he have made it back then - "

"Then he'll be storming our gates at any minute!", she blew up. She paced back and forth in a small line where she stood. "Think of all the women and children that live within the walls of Solitude. The seat of Skyrim rests here and the people rely on me to - "

The General stepped forward and cut off her hysterics with his own words. "Ulfric will not march on Solitude, Your Grace."

High Queen Elisif twisted her pretty face into one of confusion, as if everything she had just said fell on deaf ears. "What are you talking about? You were there that night we signed the treaty in that cold forest."

"Aye, I was. But I'm also a man of strategy, My Queen, and so is Ulfric Stormcloak.", he began. She listened intently, scanning his eyes and face. "Ulfric knows he can make it all the way to Hjallmarch, but he knows that with most of our troops pulled back within the hold that he doesn't stand a chance while we outnumber his forces here." He looked at her with stern eyes, wanting her to understand the gravity of his words. "Ulfric and his army will not come to these gates, My Queen."

For a moment Elisif wanted to believe him, she wanted to feel the relief she had so craved. She wanted the tossing and turning to cease every night. But the General's words were just that to her - words.

"Empty promises, General.", she replied back bluntly as she moved away from the windows and stomped back to her throne, her next words traveling with her as her voice carried. "I'm relieving you of your duties here in Skyrim and sending you back to Cyrodil. Commander Pavo will take your place as - "

"Commander Pavo is dead.", he loudly broke. "All my men from that detachment caravan that night are dead. Pavo's only living son is more than likely dead. Your husband is still dead." Elisif turned to face him quickly, his words like ice on her skin. "But Ulfric still breathes, and the only two people in Skyrim who can stop him are standing here in this room."

High Queen Elisif was standing in front of her throne, peering down at the General. He took a slow step forward and made his way up the small flight of stairs that led to the throne. He looked at her with intense eyes. "I made you a promise the last time I left this room. I failed you, My Queen. For that I am ashamed of myself, I lost friends and comrades. But I'm all you've got."

High Queen Elisif met his dark set eyes. She knew his words were true, she exhaled and searched her mind. "You mentioned that Ulfric could be matched in the field, how would you intend on doing such, General?", she asked.

"If Ulfric made it back to Windhelm, he'd rally his banner man and join with his allies the moment he knew he could. Luckily,", he added. "Pavo's son, Aventis, spied diligently for us for the past few months and was able to gather some intel regarding Ulfric's future war plans..."

The poised but flared High Queen met him with an expectant look as he continued. "We learned that Ulfric planned on joining with Whiterun to attack Falkreath and secure the southern border." Elisif thought about it and nodded, it made sense to her. He went on. "If we cut him off at Whiterun and garrison the city then at the very least we can slow his march to Falkreath by dwindling down his men, even if we fail to capture him - "

"Should you fail to capture him, I wouldn't bother returning here, General.", High Queen Elisif interrupted abruptly.

General Tullius shifted his footing but he was not intimidated by her, for he knew her words to be only the truth. He failed her previously when he should not have, he failed his Empire and Pavo Arentino, and he failed himself.

The General knew Elisif well enough to know his place in that moment. He needed not to beg her for her forgiveness, or explain his tactics further, her elegant words of warning were all the answer he needed. He lowered himself down until his armored right knee rested on the stone floor, with a graceful "shink" he drew he sword and placed it in front of him, arms fastened on the pommel.

He bowed his head humbly. "My Queen.", he pledged to her with his sword. Then just as honorably as he had lowered himself, he rose from the floor to meet Elisif's green eyes, stern but approving. She but only nodded.

General Tullius returned his sword to his scabbard and curtseyed one last time before turning and walking towards the iron doors. Her womanly voice echoed behind him and he turned his face to her. "I mean it, General. Should you fail, don't bother - "

"I would no sooner die by the sword of Ulfric Stormcloak than to fail again, Your Grace.", he interrupted. The honorable man of war meant every word.

*The Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary, Falkreath Hold*

The sun was beginning to set just as it had every evening that they traveled, and the scenery varied every day - from the moment they left the swampy marshland of Haafingar and Hjaalmarch, to the breezy amber plains of the Whiterun hold, to the now chilly forests of the quiet hold of Falkreath. The air was chilly though not biting cold, and in the distance and overhead Skyrim's mountains loomed with their snow capped peaks. There was vegetation and sturdy pine trees all around them, it was pleasantly comfortable.

Though Aventis did not have a comfortable feeling in his gut as he stared at the ominous door in front of them. It was stone and rounded, and it fit snuggly over the entrance to a sheltered cave. He scanned it with his eyes, most noticeably catching was a large skeleton engraved in the middle with black eyes that were like two sunken holes, and under it what appeared to be the etchings of a child's corpse, followed by depictions of several more smaller skulls. A carved knife was impaling one of the skulls. It was all very daunting to Aventis, though none so much as the black and bloodied handprint that was marked across the skeleton's head - the same black handprint Aventis had grown too accustomed to.

Babette turned her head to him, her lavender eyes flicked over to him expectantly. "Are you ready to meet your family?"

Her words swirled around in his brain for a moment - family. Aventis remembered his mother and her kind eyes, her gentle touch, and her flowing brown hair. He recalled her soothing voice that would calm him if his father yelled too loudly at him. He even remembered his father, he remembered the welcoming look and hug they shared when Aventis returned from Fort Kastav, how for a moment even his father was proud of him and the information he brought back. Aventis Arentino was born into a family, a family that was no longer the same. He didn't know what that word meant to him anymore - but perhaps the new meaning lie behind the ominous stone door, he decided.

He nodded to her and Babette faced the door once more, then a voice boomed from it and nearly startled Aventis backwards.

"What is life's greatest illusion?", it asked slowly and eerily.

"Silence, my brother.", Babette recited back.

"Welcome home.", it replied to her. There was a brief pause before the sound of crunching and churning rocks could be heard, followed by small plumes of dust and dirt as the door pushed itself outward and revealed a flight of stairs that descended down into the cave.

"Welcome home, young Aventis.", Babette cooed with a small smile as she made her way, Aventis trailing closely behind, down the dimly lit staircase. The door creaked and crunched as he heard it close behind them at the top of the stairs.

He heard chatting, the sound of a woman and then a man, then a few more men and more voices. There was laughing in between the conversation. The two teens came to the bottom of the stairwell and were met with the open sight of what lies within the cave. Aventis took in the Sanctuary - it was much bigger than he imagined, with tunnels, hallways, ramps, stairs, and coves leading to corners and crevices and rooms. There was even a small pond, Aventis guessed no more than waist deep, with a short waterfall that cascaded down from a stone balcony. Atop the balcony was a large circular piece of stained glass, almost resembling a window. Depicted on the glass in hues of deep reds, blacks, and dirty yellows was a skull, and under the skull a creature, half man half beast-like with black protruding horns. It was fearsome yet elegant all at once. The scent of herbs and spices from an alchemist's workbench, burning ore from a small forge tucked into a cove, and the damp musk of a cave all clung to the air and danced in Aventis' nostrils. Just as the sights and scents hit him, so did the realization of standing in the Sanctuary of the Dark Brotherhood, the last left in all of Tamriel if Aventis' various book reading served him anything.

And in front of him, standing in a circle of no more than seven or so clamoring and chatting, was what he could only assume was the famed group of assassins themselves - all doned in the same black and red light armors he had seen Babette in not but a few days prior. Aventis surveyed them all: there was a Nordic woman with shoulder length blonde hair, half of which was pulled up into a braid, with chestnut eyes and lips that were always taut with seriousness. Beside her stood a lumbering burly Nordic man with gray hair that rested down to his chest and a scruffy beard to match, though he not look any older than his thirties, and dark red eyes. He wasn't wearing any shoes, Aventis pondered. Across the circle from him with his arms crossed stood an older man with a shaved head and tan skin. He was wearing a uniform like the rest of his comrades, though his were more robe-like with billowed legs and arms, and he was wearing a scowling grimace on his face.

"Oh yes, please, old man. Regale us with your tales of wizardry.", the burly man spoke with a jeer in his gruff voice.

"Ah, the young and the stupid. Always mocking the experienced and brilliant.", the old man replied back irritably. "My contract went very well, I'll have you know. Tried a new spell, a little something I've been working on in my spare time. Came 'this' close to turning that priest inside out. Damn messy." The rest of the members chuckled and agreed, the large man brushed off his words.

"And what of your latest, Arnbjorn?", a Dunmer woman in the same robes as the old man asked in her Dark Elf-like tone. Her big red eyes matched her robes and her blue face and pointed ears were shrouded by a hood that hung to her eyebrows, almost over her eyes. "Something about a Khajit? Merchant was it?", she quipped smartly. The others smirked and sneered.

"It was not funny, Gabriella, and he wasn't a merchant - he was a Khajit monk, a master of the Whispering Fang style. But now he's dead...and I have a new loincloth.", Arnbjorn responded with a chuckle at the end.

A pale man with hair as red as fire and dressed as a jester in Brotherhood uniform cackled, when he did so his deep red painted lips curled up into a sinister smile. He clapped his hands giddily and stomped his feet in delight, his red pointed shoes slapping the stone floor of the cave. "Oooh, I guess you were the one that caught the cat's tongue this time! Haha!", he threw his head back in laughter again. Not far from the jester on the ground sat an Argonian man who looked up at the giggling maniac with an annoyed look in his glared yellow eyes.

"Watch where you stomp your feet, Cicero!", he hissed, brushing off some of the dust the jester kicked up off his red and black suit. The Argonian looked like every Argonian Aventis had seen - thick green scaled skin, piercing yellow eyes, two horns protruding from behind his ears, and a few smaller duller horns growing from under his defined jawline. A long green tail flicked and waved gently behind him, and his fingernails were long and black.

A Redguard man wearing a traditional Hammerfell garb in the colors of the Dark Brotherhood shifted his vision away from the group of chatting assassains when he saw the two teens standing there at the end of the staircase. "Oh, Veezara, don't act as if you don't love the dirty ground any way. Ah, Babette, you're back!", he hollered out to her. His teeth her white and shiny when he smiled, and a blackened beard that hung from his chin and tied in a knot by a gold band only made his ice-gray eyes stand out against his dark flesh. A signature schimtar hung snuggly from his sheath.

The entire group then turned to the two of them, and Aventis felt all eyes stabbing holes into him. Babette stepped forward and spoke to the older man in robes.

"I'm not sure why you're going on about 'the young and stupid', Festus. I'm older than even you are, yet I look ten times better, so does that make me both younger and wiser than you?", she teased. Festus gave a subtle 'hmph!' but even a small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Nazir told us he guessed you'd be back soon.", Gabriella remarked as she stepped forward. "Lis has quite missed you."

Babette's face lit up for a moment. "Ah, Lis. I missed my old girl too. I'll go feed her in a moment."

"Speaking of food...", Arnbjorn said as he peered around the group and eyed Aventis. "Have you brought us dinner?"

Babette gave him a warning smirk and shrugged off his comment, Aventis didn't understand and felt left out. "Don't lick your chops just yet. This is the one who stole my contract from me."

Just then the blonde haired woman stepped forward from the group and walked her way over to Aventis. She got a good look of him up and down, yet she withheld all emotion as her face remained serious and poised. "Ah, so you're the one who took out the Commander of the Imperial army, are you?"

All eyes were on the teen once more as he stammered his answer out from his dry throat. "Y-yes.", he croaked.

"And I suspect you repaid the debt from which you stole from us, correct?", she asked sternly.

Aventis nodded, but it was Babette that spoke. "He did. I watched him plunge my dagger into a Khajit's chest." The woman only nodded approvingly and continued to eye him. "Aventis is harmless, Astrid. I can vouch for him."

"Harmless? Haha! And you bring him here? Haha!", Cicero laughed and the others joined in on the chuckle, everyone except Astrid.

"Harmless, yet you've proven you can kill.", Astrid said, more so to herself as if she were convincing her mind of her own words. "Come with me then.", she said as she stepped past them and made her way down a hallway. Aventis looked back at Babette for approval, only to find the vampiric teen chatting in the circle with her fellow assassins. He followed Astrid.

Aventis met her in one of the larger rooms that the Sanctuary offered. There was a fireplace with two wooden chairs sat cozily in front of its warmth, a few chests and dressers, and a large bed with a Dark Brotherhood banner hanging above it. In the middle of the room was a table with a detailed map of Skyrim where Astrid stood over it, her knuckles propping herself up as she scanned it. She met his eyes when he entered the room.

"Aventis, is it?"

He nodded.

"So, Aventis, you want to join the Brotherhood..."

"Truthfully I have nowhere else to go, I don't have much of a choice left I suppose."

"You always have a choice.", Astrid replied back. The phrase was familiar and he recalled Babette saying it to him when he awoke with a fuzzy head in an abandoned shack several days ago. "You could've chosen another way, yet you chose to come here. Perhaps you knew you wanted to be here before the realization even hit you. Maybe our line of work is something that interests you...surely by now you're familiar with our line of work?"

Aventis nodded. "I am. But why me?"

Astrid scrunched her face for a moment, and Aventis couldn't read her expression. "Why not you? You've killed, and a high value contract at that. You've taken care of the debt you owed to us. The Dark Brotherhood rarely takes new recruites, one must be invited or summoned by a Brotherhood member themselves to earn that right." She crossed her arms. "No, I don't know you that well yet, but I know Babette like she was my own daughter. And I trust Babette, and she seems to trust you. So I feel compelled to give you a shot at least. What do you think, Aventis...could you handle our line of work?"

Aventis thought it over for a brief moment, though his heart already made up its mind the moment Babette's pretty eyes asked him to join her. "I can handle it."

"Excellent. Then I have a contract for you.", she replied calmly before looking back down at the map. Her finger trailed to the netherwestern region of Skyrim. "We recieved the Black Sacrament from a young woman in Markarth, it appears that she wishes to see the head of someone in Windhelm." Aventis' stomach dropped at the thought of returning to Windhelm. "Muiri is the woman you need to speak with in Markarth. It's a standard contract, and Babette can accompany you on this one before you're on your own out there..."

Aventis chewed on her words and agreed. "Will there be - "

"Payment? Compensation? It's your first contract, I'll let you keep your full cut this once. A word of advice, just do what the contract asks of you and make our name look good doing it. We're a family here, Arnbjorn is my husband, and the others are my brothers and sisters. We take pride in what we do, Aventis.", she finished.

"I won't let you down.", he responded confidently, and he felt it true in his being. "This place is all I have at the moment."

Astrid placed a gentle palm on his shoulder. "And this place is all you'll ever have again.", she said calmly with surity. "After all, it's in your fate." Aventis recalled the Book of Fate that he had the misfortune of opening back in Windhelm, and he was curious as to how Astrid knew of such things. She removed her hand and walked over to the dresser against the adjacent wall. Digging around a bit she pulled out a suit of light armor and Aventis knew what it was the moment he saw the black and deep reds peeking from her pale hands. "Maybe our family is right where you belong." She extended the armor out to him, though not delicately and too sentimentally, for Astrid was the assassin who the wheel of fate turned upon to lead the highly profitable and reckoned force of an operation that was so elegantly dubbed The Dark Brotherhood hundreds of years prior.

Aventis Arentino took the red and black uniform and felt its thin leather, agile and flexible. He even lifted it to his nose, it smelt faintly of ebony ore. He nodded at it the look and feel of it in his hands, and grinned. "I'll need a new weapon."

"Now we're talking. Preference?"

"Bow. I - yes, bow.", Aventis rested his case with a certainty.

The teen swore he could've seen a small smile tickle the corner of her lips, but Astrid replied, "Then in the morning go see Arnbjorn at the smelter, I'm sure he's got a bow laying around somewhere." Aventis nodded his head graciously and turned towards the door when she called out to him once more. "I see potential in you, Aventis. I'm counting on you.", she spoke softly, almost motherly for a moment. He smiled again and set off out of the room and down the hall, the group of chatting assassins had dispersed by now as the late night fell through the dimly lit cave.

He circled back around until an odd sound caught his ear. Aventis looked around the source of the noise before finding it down a small hallway. At the end of the hall the noise grew loudest, though the only thing he came to eye to eye with was a small bit elaborate garden of herbs and ingredients. Butterflies and a few lunar moths flitted over head. There were berries and spices vining their way over the damp soil. The noise continued, though he saw nothing, so Aventis began to leave the alchemists garden when he heard a woman's soft giggle dancing with the odd sound. He could've swore it was Babette, and his eyes confirmed for him when he stepped his way over the garden and was met with a small ledge leading down into to a cold pit.

Aventis nearly fell back at the sight of Babette rolling around and petting a frostbite spider. His heart jumped in his chest and he wanted to holler out to her but her pretty lavender eyes found him and she smiled genuinely for the first time he'd ever seen. "This is Lis."

Aventis looked down at the leathery suit in his fingers and then back at her and Lis playing together on the ground, he smiled wide, wondering just what he'd gotten himself into.

*Solstheim*

Katara Snow-Child stared up at the same iron doors that she had what felt like weeks ago - the copper stained tentacles that seemed to emit a dull green glow. The sight captivated her just as it did the first time, and her torch's light helped her hand find the large handle to pull down on.

With a creaking she stepped in the familiar room, and just as she remembered was the black book that sat elegantly on its podium in the middle of the circular room. Katara walked up to it and looked down at it's cover more, some odd symbols but nothing more donned on its leather. Then she heard the air shift behind her and swiftly turned around, finding Miraak standing at the door from which she just came.

"You heard me coming this time. Very good.", he remarked as he stepped in the room and closed the door behind him. He moved closer to her and looked down at the book then back at her.

"What I'm going to show you, no other mortal has seen before.", Miraak said with a seriousness in his tone. Katara's curiosity only piqued more, and she wondered what could lie within the black book's pages - secrets, tactics, ancient knowledge. "Are you ready, Katara?", he asked her.

Her grey eyes met his emeralds, and she gently nodded her head. "Yes."

Miraak wasted no more time as he delicately opened the cover and Katara was surprised to feast her eyes upon the sight of...nothing. There was nothing. It was a blank page. She was confused and albeit almost angry, until she felt his hand wrap around hers and bring it to the blank page, flattening her palm against the papyrus. Then she felt it, a feeling she couldn't describe yet one that felt familiar. It was an energy that surrounded her and she felt it within her being, a swirling and stirring in her soul. Then her vision began to darken, and she was afraid for a moment, clenching her hand around Miraak's for it was the only thing around her that felt tangible and real.

"What's - what's happening?", she asked in a worrisome tone. Katara felt her eyes open, though she couldn't see anything, all around her was swirling blackness and her heart rate quickened. She was to the point of being frightened until suddenly the spinning stopped and her vision began to clear. Then she saw it, and slowly she let her hand fall from Miraak's as she took in the scene before her.

There were black pillars and spires surrounding them in an arch that went halfway around the circumference of them. Around the pillars was the most peculiar oddity that Katara couldn't wrap her brain around, much like the sight all around her, as various pages and miscellaneous books swirled overhead, suspended in air. The sky above them was green and black, as if the sun were a blight of green that was shrouded by the coverage of black smokey clouds. Below their feet was blackened rod iron flooring, beautifully woven and smelted together to form vine-like trails all around her. Surrounding them from what appeared to be every angle was a sea as a black as night, the water dark and goopy and threatening looking. It reminded Katara of the Ghost Sea, as if they were standing on an island in the middle of the ocean in some alternate reality.

"What is this place?", Katara asked breathlessly.

"Welcome to Apocrypha.", Miraak replied, almost unphased by the new world around them. He began to walk away and down one of the iron rod trails, looking back to see if she followed though she was still stuck in her place with her wide eyes searching all around her. "Come.", he gently beckoned, getting attention as she fell in line next to him and the two of them walked.

It was quiet, only the sounds of turning and swirling pages could be heard. It reminded Katara of a library, like the Great Hall back home in the village.

"Do you live here?", she asked him curiously.

There was a small smile at her child-like wonderment, though he tried not to show it. "I spend a great deal of time here, you could say."

The two Dragonborns still walked down the trail until they came to the end, and at the ledge looking down was the black abyss that daunted Katara. She looked back up to question Miraak, though she found him already off to the side at a small plant shaped light. It reminded Katara of Deathbell, though it's bud glowed a dim yellow. Miraak reached his hand into the bulb of the plant and the light receded, followed shortly by the sound of echoing creaking all around them. Walls began forming around the along the iron path, walls of books and pages, Katara counted hundreds and thousands of them. Then she felt the floor beneath begin to tremble lightly, and ahead of them she swore the path grew and expanded across the black sea and went on for what appeared to me miles. Again Katara was left with her mouth hung agape.

"Did you build this?", she asked.

"Not alone."

The two continued their walk down the elongated path until it led out to a larger room from which they first appeared it. Around them were the same black spires and pillars, almost like an arena. Katara looked all around them as the two just stood there.

"Who helped you?", Katara questioned. She had so many inquiries running thru her mind, still trying to take in the sight of everything around her.

"Hermaous Mora did.", he replied. "When he saved me from Vahlok's final blow, I was sent here." Miraak looked up at the creations around him, up at the sky and the towers of books. Katara has already walked over to one of the walls where she plucked a book from its levitation in air and opened it, flipping thru it.

"The God of wisdom and knowledge...", she muttered, making sense of it all.

"Indeed.", he said, still looking up at the sky.

"Everything you've learned has been from these books?"

Just then Katara swore she heard the sound of flapping, it made her heart jump and she snapped the book shut rather quickly. The flapping grew louder and the platform beneath her shook again.

"Not everything.", Miraak responded to her plainly just as two dragons emerged overhead and circled them. Katara rushed by Miraak's side, though she was not alarmed for he was not. The dragons roared and screeched high in the sky, lowering themselves down until they both came to a heavy landing in the large area that they stood on.

The dragon that Miraak waltzed up to was as large as any dragon Katara had seen, though it looked vastly different than any she'd encountered before. It's neck was long and it's snout was rounded, resembling that of a serpent. It had two rows of scraggly teeth, some pointing over its leathery lips and some pointing downwards. Two eyes, wide and innocent like those of a child's doll, were most noticeably different than other dragons. It appeared less threatening than others, and much older.

Katara watched as Miraak raised his hand and the old dragon lowered himself so that the First Dragonborn's hand could graze his scales, scratching and petting him gently.

"This is Sahrotaar. He's been my loyal companion for...many, many years."

Sahrotaar bellowed, almost purred, deep in his throat as it rumbled around them. Katara inched her way closer and couldn't help but smile. Then she turned to the other dragon.

"And this one?", she asked him, lifting her hand to the dragon's snout. Though this dragon looked similar to the ones she was familiar with, with brownish green protruding horns and eyes that always held a sinister glare.

"That's Kruziikrel.", Miraak answered. "And he can be yours, if you only so wish..."

Katara scrunched her face at his answer and turned to question him, but when she looked she found Miraak had climbed atop his serpent-dragon and was mounted snuggly at his nape. Sahrotaar then used his massive limbs and lurched forward, walking his way on all fours to where she stood. He lowered his neck so that Miraak was almost eye level with Katara.

"Fly with me, Kat.", he said with wide eyes.

Katara looked up at Kruziikrel, who acted as if he knew his purpose and lowered his own massive head for her to climb on top of.

So she did.

As she settled herself, she felt Kruziikrel lift his head again and his spread his giant wings, allowing himself room to take off. In a matter of moments, Sahrotaar and Kruziikrel had lifted the two of them into the air and they were off. For what felt like hours, the two Dragonborns soared the skies of this new world. Below them Katara could see dozens upon dozens of more paths, more spires, more books. She wondered how far up she could fly before she hit the edge of this forbidden realm, and with the choppy black sea beneath them it reminded Katara of her flight over the Ghost Sea on the back of Odahviing.

Katara and Miraak zipped thru the skies of Apocrypha, sometimes laughing, other times Miraak pointing out something to her below. She was in awe at the world around her, below her. Underneath her palms she felt the breathing of Kruziikrel as his wings continued to propel them effortlessly thru the air.

Katara was feeling all too carefree in that moment, everything was blissful and she didn't want it to end. Her fantasies were broken as Miraak called out to her, "Below, there's something else you should see." Kruziikrel followed Sahrotaar as the two dipped down and another room of Apocrypha revealed itself to her below. As they landed she could make out a large spherical orb in the middle of the room, hovering just above a small pond of the black abyss.

Katara and Miraak dismounted their dragons, and the two took off into the skies once more, their screeches and roars echoing until they lifted high into the black clouds and out of sight. Miraak beckoned Katara to the front of orb.

"This place, wherever we currently exist...it's amazing.", she remarked.

"The more time I spend in this world, the more I realize I know nothing of it. I know things no man should know. I have walked these halls of Apocrypha and learned her secrets...". With his words, the orb suspended above them began to change color, it was showing vibrant scenes, Katara could've swore some were even of Skyrim and other familiar landscapes. "Knowledge is power, those are the words you've heard me recite you a dozen times over. In here, I'm able to gain such knowledge." The orb twisted and projected a scene in front of Katara that portrayed landscapes in Skyrim being built, the mountains she had grown familiar with were raised from the ground and the trees sprouted from nothingness into the towering pines and oaks and cedars she had remembered. It was as if she were watching the creation of Skyrim.

"This shows me everything that has happened, everything that is happening, and everything to come.", he said with an awestruck tone even in his own voice.

The scene in the orb then changed to one of intense snowfall and grey slopes, it looked familiar, until she recognized the brown huts and homes that began to appear. It was a blizzard, and it was her village. The crying of a baby echoed around them, until in the orb appeared a fireplace and the pretty face of a ran skinned, white haired baby. Her breath caught in throat as Katara realized the baby was her, and she only caught a glimpse of herself being cradled in the arms of her mother before the scene shifted once more. Katara went to open her mouth to protest, to beg Miraak and his sorcery for one more second of seeing what she had just seen, but before she could muster words the scene twisted to one of Ulfric Stormcloak on his knees, Commander Pavo's sword inching its way to his chest.

Katara lept forward and grabbed onto some of the iron siding around the black pool. Her heart raced and breath quickened as the picture quickly turned to an injured and solitary Ulfric stumbling thru the cold forest. Worry and fear built in her gut until the last picture presented itself in the orb...

Ulfric Stormcloak riding high on his horse with his blue banners waving in the wind...twenty thousand or more men at his back, and Whiterun on the horizon.


End file.
